by Luna Carrol
She could muster nothing more than a shocked expression as he turned away.
Think! Think you dufus. That jerk just insulted you! Some people had the gift to think of things to say at the right moment. She wasn't one of them. She groaned. Something witty would come to her later.
"Well, I am spontaneous!” She stood. There. That's telling him. She rolled her eyes just before he turned, smiling in her direction.
"Excluding what?” He walked to the door between her car and the next.
"Well ... Well, I wouldn't know that, would I? That would mean I was thinking ahead!"
He laughed as he left the car.
"Ohh! He's insufferable.” She plopped down and crossed her arms. “Spontaneity doesn't mean throwing common sense to the wind and sleeping with perverts.” Oh, now she thinks of a retort. Way to go, Donnes. Way to go.
Chapter Three
She silently stared out of the train window. Her reflection stared back at her, transposed on what reminded her of a scene from the Wild West.
"You're upset, Little Lady."
Donnice looked to the aisle. The cowboy she had seen in the other car sat on the bench on the other side of the aisle. She hadn't heard him enter the car. Too upset she guessed.
"Well, yeah. I just found out that I killed a bunch of people, I'm dead, and...” She watched as he lowered his brim over his face and crossed his ankles. “Never mind."
"I'm listenin'.” His stubble covered jaw moved below the hat as he spoke.
"It's not important.” It really wasn't something she needed to share with total strangers anyway.
"Not too much is. Now, is it?” He laced his long fingers over his flat stomach.
"What do you mean?"
"Well now, the way I see it. If yer dead, then nothing you do matters, does it?"
Surely not. Things had to matter. This isn't Heaven. Her heart stopped. “This isn't Heaven,” she whispered.
The cowboy chuckled. “If it is, then I'm in the wrong place."
"You are?"
He pushed his hat back with long fingers. Damn, he was cute—stubble on his cheeks and chin, rugged features, but clear blue eyes.
"Murderers don't go to Heaven, do they?"
Murderer. She never thought that word would be associated with her. “No. I suppose not."
That meant ... She looked at him. Somehow that smile didn't look so friendly now. Did he smile while killing people?
"So, if we're not going to Heaven on this thing...” She looked to the window as the train jerked forward. The chugging of the wheels began gradually, and the whistle blew in a near deafening way.
"I'd quit feeling sorry fer myself if I was you."
"Huh?” She looked back at him.
"Ain't that whatcha doin'? Feelin’ sorry fer yerself?"
She was whining. Holy crap! What kind of dead person ... wait ... “Hey, if ghosts don't feel sorry for themselves, then what's all that moaning for?"
He shrugged. “Suit yerself. You could reap the benefits while you got the time, or you could sit there and bellyache."
He made sense. She could whine and do exactly what she always had, or she could be ... spontaneous.
She looked to the cowboy. “Do you know what spontaneity is?"
He harrumphed. “I was perty spontaneous when I shot that last guy."
"Well, I want to be spontaneous before I reach ... wherever."
His brow creased as he cocked his head. “You need to be a little more clear, Little Lady."
She stood. “Do you think I'm attractive?"
His eyebrows rose. “I'd say so. A bit on the thin side, but yeah. Course, the only gals I've seen fer awhile has been the ones over at the Bird Cage."
She was going to have to act if he was going to do something. She pulled her brown jacket off, revealing her crisp white blouse tucked in her dark brown slacks.
"The conductor said I'm the type of girl who would never say yes."
"Ma'am, if yer suggestin’ what I think you are.” He stood and pushed his hat further back on his forehead. “I'm more than happy to oblige."
She threw her hands up. “Wait a minute. I just thought of something."
He sighed. “And that would be?"
"You're a murderer."
His face remained unchanged. “So are you. And might I remind you, I can't kill you."
She looked to the side and slowly lowered her arms. “Umm ... yeah. I guess not. But how did you know that I'm guilty of murder?"
"The conductor explained it to me."
He did! That bastard told a stranger what she confessed to him! So much for confiding in him. Of course, he isn't a priest or anything. But still, she needed to confide in him, and he seemed to take it seriously enough.
The cowboy pulled her close. “Now, I like it a certain way. Whaddaya say, feelin’ spontaneous?"
"Well, I think so. How different can it be really?"
He smiled cruelly. “That's funny. That's exactly what my last fella said.” He gripped her blouse and pulled it to the side just enough for the buttons to pop out of their holes. “That was just about twenty minutes before I shot him."
Did he just say fella? And he shot him? Shit! She seriously needed to remember that there are some weird people committing murder.
"Relax, Filly. I can't do you no harm. In fact.” He kissed her collarbone. “I don't want to. I just wanna make you feel good."
She reached behind her and grabbed the upholstered bench. His hands slid down to her ass and gripped it firmly.
"Don't care much for these britches."
He unfastened her belt and unzipped her pants. He moved so fast she wasn't sure she had time to say no if she wanted to. She was dead anyway. She could do anything she wanted to.
She stepped out of her pants just as his hands gripped her ass and massaged. His rough stubble ran over her throat, his mouth kissing and lightly biting.
She held his shoulders as much to steady herself as to touch him. She started to wonder if she was going to get anything out of this arrangement.
"Hey ... hey ... umm...” Good lord, no wonder the guy had to kill someone to get off. He obviously didn't care for mutual enjoyment.
He lifted his head and smiled. “I apologize. It's been a while since I had myself a lady."
She smiled. “I would prefer taking it a little slower."
"Slower it is.” Using a long finger, he eased her bra strap aside. “Not used to finery."
She blinked. “Oh. It's just a bra.” Reaching behind herself she unhooked the clasp. “Have you never seen one?"
He watched her breasts hungrily as the straps fell. Only her hands held the bra in place. “I got the feelin’ this train travels as much time as it does track, Filly."
"Time? You mean you're from the past?” That couldn't be. Time travel could only be found in science fiction books and movies.
He grinned but never took his eyes from her nearly exposed breasts.
"You're stalling, and you're shy.” He gripped her wrists and eased them apart. The bra fell to the floor. “Who cares where we're from? What matters is where we're going, don't it?"
Her heart began thumping as he lowered his mouth to a nipple. Holding her arms out, he swirled his tongue around each nipple and stepped back to see the effect of puckering pink flesh.
She bit her lip and looked to the side.
"I ain't seen tits that pink before. Always made do with the Indian women or Mexican senoritas."
Indian? Mexican? How far did this train really go? He reminded her of the old westerns her father used to watch.
"Keep yer arms up fer me."
She kept her arms outstretched while he ran his calloused hands down her sides. They rested on her hips while his thumbs played with the edges of her panties.
"Yer a rich lady, ain't ya? Betcha can read, too."
Wealth? Was he being sarcastic? She bought these panties at Wal-Mart. But to a cowboy ... “These are pretty typical.” Even the c
olor. A peach tone and barely any lace at all. “And reading is something everyone does where I'm from."
"Not around these parts. Where you from?"
"Washington D.C."
"Washington?” He chuckled. “Well, I'll be. An Eastern lady in my arms."
"Where are you from?"
His mouth lowered and tasted the skin just below her breast. “All over, but it don't matter none now."
"A real cowboy, huh?” She smiled.
"The real thing, Princess."
"You killed a man, too?” Now, why in the hell did that excite her? She was the weird one. A dangerous man should make her want to scream and run, not drop her pants and beg him to do all manner of things to her.
"Many. Mostly cause they got nosy."
Her eyes got wide, but she soon smiled again. “I guess I shouldn't ask too many questions then."
He slid his palm flat across her lower stomach and into her panties. His middle finger eased between her slick nether lips.
"Don't matter now. Ask anything you like."
"You ever killed a woman?"
His grin grew more devious. “A few."
She stood on her toes as his middle finger slid into her wet sheath, a moan easing from her mouth. She gripped his broad shoulders to steady herself.
"Something tells me, you're a lady by reputation only."
She giggled and leaned closer to him. “I think you just insulted me."
"No, ma'am. I don't want no virgin, Princess. Tonight may be my last time. I want something special."
Oh, she wanted to be dirty. Not once in her life had she ever been what she wanted to be. This may be her last chance.
"You said you like it a certain way.” She kissed the tender spot of his neck just below the ear. “And I want an experience I'll never forget."
"That's something I'll try my best to do. No one ever complained after I gave him a good toss."
He spun her around to face the bench. Coming up behind her, he gripped her full breasts from behind.
"Damn, I like that softness in my hands.” He bounced them up and down a little, keeping them pressed close to his palms. “Yeah, I like that."
Cupping her breasts from below, he shook them back and forth while leaning in closer to her ass. His jeans were rough against her skin. “Princess, you got the body of a whore. Made for sexin'."
Looking at her own breasts bobbing, she felt the muscles in her pussy contract and release more than once. She was getting wetter. Just looking at his tanned and lean fingers squeezing her breasts made her want him.
"Seems you can see something I can't. Don't seem fair, does it?” His chuckle made her smile in shame. “Turn around fer a minute."
She pressed her back against the bench.
"Shake them fer me."
"What?” No way. She couldn't possibly shake her breasts like a stripper.
He grinned and cupped her breasts from beneath. “I'll do it at first. Getcha started and all."
He bobbed her breasts up and down while licking moisture off his lower lip. “Them's fine, Princess. More than a handful."
The cowboy wiggled them side to side. “Now, you make them do that."
She closed her eyes and moved her shoulders a little.
He laughed. “Well, I guess we can't expect much from such a lady.” He lowered his mouth and sucked hard on one nipple then the other.
She whimpered as his teeth nipped at the sensitive buds.
"You wanna show me yer kitty?"
Her eyes opened. Kitty?
"I touched it. Least ya can do is let me see it."
Oh, that. He wanted her to just show it? She started to remove her panties. How could she just show it? She stopped removing her panties when the cowboy placed his hand on hers.
"Look at that. Real finery.” His finger slid slowly up her slit over her silken panties. “You can leave those on."
Lowering his mouth he licked up her pussy through her panties. Returning to the center of the slit he laid his tongue flat and moaned while pressing hard against her wet area. Using two fingers he pulled the panties to the side and licked with his whole tongue.
His loud moans as he licked her caused shivers of shame and excitement to rack her body. His warm tongue and saliva made it feel so slick. She rolled her hips to feel even more.
One of his hands suddenly disappeared, disappointing her. She almost begged him to return it, but she heard him dropping his pants.
"Turn around fer me and spread those thighs."
Donnice turned her back to him. Spreading her legs, she leaned over the seat of the bench and gripped the back. Her first thought was of all the criminals she had seen on the news. They took this same stance when being checked for a weapon.
The cowboy stood up behind her and pressed his hardened cock against her thin panties, sliding it up and down the material. Easing his other hand between her legs, he pushed his finger flat against her panty-covered slit.
"You're wet, Princess.” He slid her panties partially down then blatantly sniffed his fingers. “Put your knees on the bench and slide back and forth on me."
Clumsily, she moved to put her knees on the bench. The tight area didn't give an extra inch for them.
He eased her panties down her thighs and off one leg, leaving them dangling by an ankle. He used his hand to push her back lower and her ass up farther. “I like to see it."
His frank way of talking created waves of desire to shoot through her snatch. He was filthy, and it didn't matter. She didn't know him, he didn't know her, and they weren't going to have any consequences for their actions now.
He slapped her ass smartly.
She gasped.
"Slide, Princess. Get my cock wet enough."
Lifting and lowering, sliding and spreading, she eased her pussy back and forth over his hard cock.
Using one hand, he pressed his cock firmly to her slit. The other hand held one of her ass cheeks to the side just enough so she could feel it pulling her asshole open repeatedly.
"Yes. You feel it, Princess?"
"Yes."
"You can use yer hand, too. Get it good and wet."
Sliding one of her hands lower, she pulled and tugged tenderly on her clit.
"Now, you let me know when yer gonna squirt, Princess."
Squirt? “Oh yes. I'll cum if you stick it in."
He chuckled. “Oh, I'm gonna give it to ya. I'm gonna fuck ya good, but first ya gotta show me you want it bad enough."
His hips began pushing harder. “Spread yer legs and show me."
Sliding her knees farther apart, she did her best to angle her pussy up for him to see better. She felt his hand flat across her opened pussy. “Getting wetter. That's good to feel, Princess. Wet and silky.” He removed his hand and inhaled deeply. “There's no smell like pussy."
He smacked her ass again. “Move it fer me."
She ground nothing but air as he lowered his face to see the full show.
"Damn that's fine. Look at it begging fer me."
His tongue licked along her snatch.
Moaning she wished she could spread open farther. She tilted her head back and didn't give a damn that her mouth hung open.
"Tastes good. You ever tasted pussy?"
"No."
"Shame.” His tongue slipped into her hungry hole.
She closed her eyes. “I'm going to cum."
He pulled his face away. “So, what you want now?"
"What?"
"Tell me what ya want, Princess.” His cock slid along her slit again.
"I want you to fuck me, Cowboy."
He chuckled. He spit on his hand, and she heard him rub his hand along his cock.
"I thought I was wet enough."
"Ya would be if I was goin’ in the pussy."
He laughed as she looked back over her shoulder.
"Told ya I like it a certain way, and I knew a fine lady such as yerself never had it up the ass.” He gripped her hair. “You'll st
ill squirt, but I'll get to when ya scream fer me."
She gasped as his cock barely pushed its way into her ring. The feeling was totally alien to her. Pain seared the edges of her asshole.
"Now, open yer mouth, Princess. No muffled screams."
Her lips parted. Her breathing slowed, and the muscles in her ass and pussy tightened to brace for it.
"Yeah, Princess. You make it tighter fer me now."
With one swift push he entered her.
Her first instinct was to grip the bench tighter and grind her teeth.
"No, no, Princess, ya gotta scream fer me. I like it."
He thrust again. “Scream."
She opened her mouth and pulled closer to the bench. The scream bubbled forth from her throat. His thrusts grew deeper, leading to louder screams.
"Yeah. That's it. Yer a tight one. I knew ya would be, Princess. Touch yer kitty now."
She really didn't want to. Gripping the bench was all she wanted to do.
Finding a rhythm with his hips, he slapped her ass once more. “Get that kitty, Princess."
Sliding her hand lower, she found her clit and began grinding it with her hand. Her mouth began growing dry from the moans and screams. She licked her lips and swallowed. Finally, the need to cum overtook the concern she had for her ass. With a long and staggered moan, she came and held her overly sensitive mound tightly to prolong the intense feeling of release.
Still he thrust. Pushing her hips against the bench and breathing in such a controlled way that she knew he was not ready to cum.
"I can't take anymore, Cowboy. Please."
"You're doing just fine, Princess. Just fine. You should see yer ass eating me. Yeah, you're doing just fine."
"Please, Cowboy."
He slapped her ass. “That's enough whining, Princess. You needed this."
Lifting his foot onto the bench, he began making deeper thrusts. The coarse hair of his inner thigh scraped the sensitive skin of her hip with each thrust.
Her screams began again. How much deeper could it go? Surely, she was bleeding now.
"Yeah, that's it. That's good, Princess. You needed a good fuck.” His words turned to grunts. Each thrust was deeper and slower.
She held still as he grew still after one final thrust. “Yeah. Let me empty myself, Princess. Damn yer good."
She heard a small clicking sound and felt the hard, round barrel of a gun pressed to her temple. “You was good, Princess. Now, I gotta finish it.” He chuckled. “Yer gonna be sore if I don't."
