The Town Council Meeting

by J. R. Roberts

  “That’s what I said. What did you think you were hirin’ them for?”

  “Well . . . to keep the peace. Keep them from shooting at Adams.”

  “And you can do that by keepin’ them the hell out of here,” the judge said. “You understand that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll position them in the front and the back of the building.”

  “How you deploy them is up to you, Sheriff,” the judge said.

  Yatesman looked at Clint, who gave him no sympathy. He was still trying to figure a way out of the situation. He considered sneaking out the back, retrieving Eclipse from the livery, and getting out of town, but by doing that he could end up being a wanted man. The unfairness of the situation kept growing.

  “One thing, Sheriff,” Clint said.

  “What’s that?”

  “My horse,” Clint said. “He’s in the livery. If anything happens to him, I’m not going to be happy.”

  “Your horse?” Yatesman said. “I can’t have a man watching your horse.”

  “Put the animal somewhere safe,” the judge said.

  “Judge,” the sheriff said, “if this man is guilty of murder—”

  “You don’t have any evidence of that, yet, do you?” the judge asked, cutting him off.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Well then, don’t talk to me about it until you do. Now get out, you’re interrupting our meeting.”

  “Come on, Judge, this ain’t a real meeting—”

  “Were you here when I banged my gavel?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “And do you see a majority of the town council seated at this table?”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “And ain’t we been discussing town business, gents?” the judge asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Lawson said, “we been discussing whether or not we should replace our sheriff.”

  “What?”

  “So far,” the judge said, “I’m against it.”

  “Judge—”

  “But you never know, Pete,” the judge said, gathering up his cards, “you just never know.”

  SEVEN

  The game continued, with all the players seemingly unconcerned about what was happening outside. In fact, Clint was very interested in just how effective the sheriff and his drafted deputies were going to be in keeping the Bar K boys out of the saloon. If twenty men came in with their guns blazing, he was just one of the people who was going to end up dead.

  Business was picking up in the saloon, and the poker game was starting to attract some attention. Also, the saloon girls who worked the floor had started working to sell drinks. The place was filling up with the people, and gunfire would mean panic and death.

  “Adams?” the judge said. “The play is to you, son. You with us?”

  “I am, Judge,” Clint said. “I call.”

  At the bar two men started arguing. Nobody knew what they were arguing about—least of all them—because they were so drunk they weren’t making any sense.

  “Those two idiots are gonna start shootin’ at each other soon,” Ben Lawson said. “Where the hell’s the law when you need him?”

  “I think our good sheriff is pretty occupied at the moment, Ben,” Patton said.

  “Well, somebody ought to do somethin’,” Chambers said. “Those two idiots have taken their guns out.”

  “For chrissake,” the judge said, “if you’re both so worried walk over there and disarm them. They’re just a couple harmless drunks.”

  “Well,” Lawson said, “those guns look pretty deadly to me.”

  “Adams,” the judge said, “would you mind doin’ somethin’?”

  “My pleasure,” Clint said, “if only to shut you all up about it.”

  He half turned and drew his gun.

  “Look out!” somebody yelled.

  The two drunks did, indeed, have their guns out and trained on each other, and if Clint didn’t do something soon somebody was sure to get hurt.

  Clint had a clear field of fire so he pulled the trigger on his gun twice.

  Everybody was shocked to see the two drunk’s guns leap out of their hands, but nobody was more surprised than the two men themselves.

  Clint ejected the spent shells, replaced them, and holstered the gun. He didn’t like showing off, but this was a special situation. Word might get outside the building about what he’d done. Maybe it would change the mind of some of the ranch hands who were waiting to kill him and send them scurrying back to the ranch.

  “Now either get out or keep it quiet,” Clint shouted at the two men.

  “Yes, sir,” they both said and turned back to their drinks. They needed them now.

  “Thanks, Adams,” the judge said.

  “See?” Lawson said. “This is the man who should be sheriff.”

  “Knock it off, Lawson,” Clint said. “I’m not looking for a job.”

  “Wearing a badge hereabouts might just keep you from gettin’ shot,” Chambers pointed out.

  “Mr. Chambers,” Clint said, “in my experience nothing makes a bigger target out of a man than pinning a badge on.”

  “How about a reputation?” the judge asked.

  Clint looked at the man and said, “I open.”

  EIGHT

  Jennifer O’Dell brought a tray of drinks to the table, something for everyone but Clint.

  “I take it you don’t drink during a poker game,” the judge said. “I noticed you only had enough beer with lunch to wash it down.”

  “That’s right, Judge,” Clint said. “If you get drunk during a game, it tends to make you brave . . .”

  “Don’t you need to be brave to win big?” Ben Lawson asked.

  “Maybe in the practice of the law that’s true,” Clint said. “Mostly, in big games, you need to be brave just to play. You need to be in control to win.” He looked up at Jennifer. “Can you bring me a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure thing, Clint,” she said.

  All five men watched the girl walk to the bar. Of course, Clint had been doing more than just watching her since he got to town. He’d spotted her the first night, and she’d been ready to be swept off her feet by a stranger in town.

  She brought him his coffee and leaned over to breathe in his ear.

  “Your room tonight?”

  “No, sweetie,” he said, “yours—but we’ll have to be quick. I think this meeting is going to go on all night.”

  She breathed in his ear again and left. Clint lifted his eyes to see all for men looking at him.

  “Is it to me?” he asked.

  “That girl won’t give any of the men in this town the time of day,” Ben Lawson said.

  “Have you tried, Ben?” Clint asked.

  “Not me,” Lawson said. “I’m too old.”

  “What have you got that the men in this town ain’t got?” Chambers asked.

  “Maybe that’s it,” Clint said.

  “What’s it?” Patton asked.

  “I don’t live in town,” he said. “She won’t have to see me after the next few days.”

  “You might be dead within the next few days.”

  “But I won’t be dead tonight,” Clint said.

  “Hey,” the judge said, “we said we was gonna play all night.”

  “We ain’t never played in an all-night game before,” Chambers said.

  “Well, gents, in an all-night game it’s very important to be relaxed,” Clint said, “and to take breaks.”

  “Breaks?” Mayor Patton asked.

  “Yes,” Clint said. “You don’t have to leave the building, but a break to refresh yourself is very important.”

  “Refresh?” Patton asked. “You said not to drink.”

  “He means wash your face and hands, Mayor,” the judge said.

  “Oh yeah,” the mayor said, “refresh.”

  Only to Clint, “refresh” meant a little bit more than that.

  The first night wit
h Jennifer had been frenzied. If the town council was right, then she had not had sex in some time. She came to Clint’s room eager for it, pushing him inside when he answered the door and fairly ripping his clothes off. Luckily, he had already removed his boots, so she’d been able to pull his pants off quickly.

  The moment his erect penis came into view her eyes lit up and she said, “Yessss!”

  “I hope it’s okay,” he said. “What you expected?”

  “Oh yes,” she said, wrapping both hands around it. “I knew it would be . . . beautiful.”

  She rubbed it against her breasts, enjoying the heat of it, the smoothness of the skin, then rubbed it against her mouth. Finally, she licked her lips and then took his inside. He gasped as the heat of her mouth engulfed him, and she began to suck him wetly. Now that he knew it had been a long time for her, he understood why she spent so much time sucking on him. He was just glad that he’d been able to show some stamina and stay with her.

  Because he’d never had his cock sucked for so long in his life, or with such . . . fervor . . .

  “Adams?”

  Clint looked at the judge.

  “Yes?”

  “Your deal.”

  “Gents,” Clint said, “remember what I said about taking a break?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think we should take one,” he said.

  “Why?” the mayor asked.

  “Because I’m tired,” Clint said, “and I can only wonder how you fellows feel.”

  “You sayin’ that because we’re older than you?” Ben Lawson demanded.

  Clint smiled.

  “I’m saying that because you fellows were playing long before I got here, weren’t you?”

  “He’s right about that,” the mayor said.

  “Also,” Clint said, standing up and addressing the judge, “I’m sure you want to check on the progress outside.”

  “I suppose I should,” the judge said. “All right. How long a break?”

  Clint looked over at Jennifer, sighed, and said, “I guess about an hour should do it.”

  When he and Jennifer got into her room she said, “Only an hour?”

  “Well, honey,” he said, “I am playing poker with the town council, you know. Those are important men.”

  “Not as important as they think they are,” she said. “Okay, give me five minutes to freshen up.”

  He grabbed her and said, “I like you dirty.”

  “I’m not dirty,” she said, pushing him away, “but I am a little smelly. Be patient.”

  As she went to wash up he took the opportunity to walk to the window and look out at the street. The ranch hands were still out there. They had torches going, which kept the street lighted. He could see them standing around, waiting for the word to go in.

  From his vantage point he could not see the sheriff and his new deputies, but they must have been out there or the men would have charged into the saloon a long time ago.

  Clint wondered who had killed Big Ed Kennedy. It certainly wasn’t him, but he could understand why his men thought it was. It was part of carrying around a big reputation with a gun.

  He thought it was likely someone had impersonated him, either to defraud the rancher of a lot of money or just to get him alone and kill him. If the point was to kill him, then the man was probably hired by one of the other ranchers.

  Clint’s inclination was to look into the matter himself and clear his name. But that would make it necessary for him to leave the saloon. These men were sure to gun him down at first sight.

  “Clint?”

  He turned.

  “How do I look?”

  She had put on a filmy nightgown, which showed off her long legs and her large breasts.

  “Oh my,” he said.

  She smiled, pleased at his reaction.

  NINE

  As much as he liked her nightgown he walked to her and pulled it down from her shoulders. Her full breasts bobbed into view and he took their weight into his hands, brushing her large nipples with his thumbs. He lifted them to his mouth and sucked the nipples in turn, squeezing them at the same time. She moaned but pulled away so she could sink to her knees.

  She pulled open Clint’s pants and reached inside for him. Her fingers wrapped around his hard shaft and freed his cock so she could get a look at it. Gazing at him hungrily, she opened her mouth and placed her lips upon the tip of his penis and slid her tongue against the smooth, sensitive skin.

  Clint felt his knees buckle slightly as she eased her lips all the way down to take him completely inside her mouth. He knew he was in for more of the same as the first night they’d been together, but he didn’t have that much time. He was about to pull away when she ran her tongue up and down the bottom of his cock, teasing the sensitive spot right beneath the head. In moments he was rock hard and ready to explode.

  Grabbing her shoulders, Clint eased her back so he could collect himself. She looked up at him and immediately leaned in to suck him some more. It felt so good he didn’t want it to stop, but somehow, he managed to keep control. Clint took hold of her and moved her toward the bed.

  He pushed her into her back and got rid of his clothes. Joining her on the bed he got between her legs and touched the tip of his erect penis to her wet slit. He pushed in easily and she gasped. Once he was all the way inside of her he grabbed her by the hips as she let out a gasp of pleasure and closed her eyes tightly.

  But Jennifer wanted to be on top, and Clint decided to let her. Fighting her might take too long. He let her flip him over, and her knees dropped down on either side of him. She supported herself by placing both hands flat upon his chest. She started to ride him in earnest, tossing her head back and giving herself up to the moment.

  Clint pawed her breasts, pinched her nipples, ran his hands up and down her strong back and over her almost-chubby thighs. She lay down on top of him, then, crushing her breasts against him, brought her hips into action and lifted her butt up and down faster and faster until the sound of slapping flesh filled the room.

  “Yes,” she shouted, “oh yes, like that, right there, oh, right there . . . don’t stop . . .”

  But she was in control, and stopping was within her purview—and she wasn’t about to. He felt as if his cock were elongating, getting deeper and deeper inside of her every time she came down on him. She was so wet it was running down his thighs, and the room filled with the sweet scent of her.

  Finally she jammed herself down on him tightly. He could feel her entire body go taut for a moment, and then she was flopping about on top of him as if she’d lost control of her body.

  Hurriedly, he flipped her over without breaking contact with her and began to fuck her for all he was worth, chasing his own release, trying to achieve before hers could fade away. She gasped and moaned as he slammed into her, and then she began to ride another wave just as he felt the build up in his legs and thighs and then suddenly he was exploding inside of her. She started shouting and finally bit into his shoulder to keep herself from screaming.

  He wondered if anyone downstairs or outside could hear her—but he didn’t really care. It would certainly let them know that he wasn’t in there, worrying about anything else that was going on outside.

  TEN

  Back at the table the other four men—the town council—were already waiting. They watched him as he walked across the room and sat down.

  “Rested?” the judge asked.

  “Oh yes,” Clint said. “You?”

  “Somewhat refreshed.”

  “Whose deal is it?” Clint asked.

  “It’s Ben’s,” the mayor said.

  Delbert Chambers leaned forward and asked, “Ain’t you the least bit worried about what’s goin’ on outside?”

  “Well,” Clint said, “I’d say I was interested, but not exactly worried.”

  “I’d be worried,” Lawson said, while he shuffled the cards, “if twenty men or so were outside waitin’ to kill me.”

  �
�If I was that worried,” Clint said, “I’d have to stop playing because I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on what I was doing—which, in this case, is taking money from you gents.”

  “I figure the tide will turn,” the judge said.

  “Yeah,” Mayor Patton added, “if he stays alive long enough.”

  “Deal the cards, Ben,” Clint said. “Judge, you got something you want to tell me?”

  “Well, yeah,” the judge said. “I talked to the sheriff and this is what he told me happened a little while ago . . .”

  Out in front of the saloon Sheriff Yatesman stared out at the men in the street—all holding burning torches and all wearing guns. He didn’t know what he’d do if they suddenly tossed the torches through the window of the saloon.

  “What do we do,” one of his new deputies asked, “if they decide to throw those torches through the window of the saloon?”

  Yatesman looked at the man.

  “Shoot anybody who does that,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sheriff,” another deputy said, “I ain’t gettin’ paid enough to shoot anybody.”

  “Any of you has to shoot somebody you’ll get another ten dollars.”

  “That suits me,” the first man said. “And it’ll suit my brother, too.” His brother was around the back, keeping watch. He had a shotgun and was supposed to fire it if anyone tried to get into the saloon that way.

  “Sheriff!” Arnie Coleman shouted, “this has been goin’ on too long. You gotta let us in there.”

  “Nobody goes inside, unless you’re willin’ to do it without a gun.”

  “That ain’t right!” somebody yelled.

  “And if you do go in, you can’t interrupt the town council meetin’.”

  “Ain’t no meetin’ goin’ on in there,” Coleman said. “Just a damned poker game.”

  “Well, take off your gun, Arnie, and go in there and tell them that.”

  “I ain’t takin’ my gun off while the Gunsmith’s around,” Coleman said. “He killed Big Ed.”

  “You can’t prove that, Arnie.”

  “What if I told you I could?” Coleman asked. “What then?”