Slocum at Dead Dog

by Jake Logan

  “I’m doing just fine here,” Slocum said. “I am kind of curious about that fella who was sitting over there. The one you called Kansas.”

  “Oh, Kansas Totum is his name. He’s a big rancher around here. Owns some businesses in town too. He’s a little rough on the edges, I guess, but he’s all right.”

  “I see.”

  “You’re new here, aren’t you?” she said.

  “Yeah. Well, really I’m just passing through is all.”

  “My name’s Charlene,” she said.

  “I’m Slocum.”

  “Well, Slocum, it’s nice to have a gentleman around here for a change.”

  “Aw, I—”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind those ole boys. They’re good customers, and they don’t do no harm. Like I said before, they’re just a little bit rough around the edges is all.”

  “I guess you’re right. I reckon they don’t know no better.”

  “The only world they’ve ever known is this one right out here.”

  “How come they call him Kansas?” said Slocum.

  “I guess he come down here from Kansas,” Charlene said, “but from what I know, Kansas is the same damn thing as Texas.”

  Slocum chuckled. “I guess you’re right about that,” he said. He picked up his napkin and dabbed at his lips. Then he shoved back his chair.

  “More coffee?” Charlene said.

  “No, thanks,” said Slocum. “I think I’ll hunt myself up a saloon and have a drink or two before I turn in.”

  “Well,” she said, “soon as you get out of here, I’ll be closing this place up. Then I’ll run down the street to my other job. At the Range Boss Saloon. Go down there and you’ll likely see me again.”

  “The Range Boss, huh? Interesting name.”

  “Interesting place.”

  “Well, it does have one interesting gal working for it,” Slocum said. “The Range Boss.”

  “I guarantee you,” Charlene said, “you won’t be disappointed.”

  “I believe that,” Slocum said. “Is the whiskey good?”

  “It’s top quality. It ain’t watered, and the price is right. Best in town.”

  “You seem to be connected to all the places that’s got the best in town.”

  “It’s the only way to go,” she said. “Will I see you there?”

  “Most likely,” said Slocum. “That’s where I’ll be.”

  2

  As Slocum sauntered down the nearly deserted street, he figured the Range Boss would be damn near empty, but when he got nearer, he could hear the noise. As he walked through the batwing doors, he was surprised to discover that the place was lively. There were all kinds of people in there drinking, playing cards, and going up and down the stairs with saloon gals. It was a mix of businessmen, farmers, cowboys, ranchers, and various other kinds of working folks, storekeepers and laborers of various kinds. Slocum went in and worked his way through the crowd, finding a rare unoccupied spot at the bar. There was a huge mirror behind the bar. Slocum was staring into it. He looked over the crowd.

  He saw, at a table in a far corner of the room, Kansas Totum and the men who had been with him at Baker’s. From that distance across a crowded room, Totum looked every bit as sleazy and disgusting to Slocum as he had before. The slimy son of a bitch, Slocum thought. He tore his eyes away from the crappy vision to allow them to roam over the rest of the crowd. In another moment, though, they wandered back.

  Totum had taken off his hat, displaying his bald head. He was maybe forty years old and going to fat. Slocum thought about how easily he could take the man, either with fists or with a six-gun. He almost longed to do it. Over his sweaty lips, Totum wore a drooping mustache. The three men with Totum, though, they were something else. Two of them were just tough-looking and ornery and mean. Whiskered faces did not hide their sneering expressions. Their clothes were dirty. They needed baths badly. But the third one was cleaner. His face was shaved, and his clothes were clean. Slocum thought that if he ever had to fight these men, he would go for the clean one first.

  Slocum thought about the sheriff again, Carl Benton, a man who would not be intimidated by money and power in a small town like Dead Dog. He wondered if Kansas Totum kept his hired guns in line when they were in town. From what Slocum knew about Benton, he would toss them in jail or shoot them down without a moment’s hesitation, just like anyone else who got out of line, and to hell with what Kansas Totum thought about it. Kansas must know that as well, and he must keep them in line when they were in town.

  Finally, the busy barkeep made his way to where Slocum was waiting patiently. “Sorry to keep you waiting, stranger,” he said, giving the bar in front of Slocum a swipe with his bar towel. “What can I get for you?”

  “Good bourbon whiskey,” Slocum said.

  The barkeep reached under the bar for a glass, and back behind himself to a shelf beneath the mirror for a bottle. He held the bottle out for Slocum to eyeball and said, “Will this do?”

  “It’ll do just fine,” Slocum said.

  The barkeep poured a glassful, and Slocum tossed a coin on the bar in front of him. The barkeep picked it up, turned, and walked away. Slocum picked up the glass and turned it in front of his eyes. The whiskey in it had a nice, full color. He held it under his nose and sniffed, and he liked the aroma. At last, he took a sip. It was smooth, but it burned at the same time. It had a good taste. He would sip the whole glass, enjoying it all the way. He glanced up into the mirror again.

  There were a couple of card games going on back there. One cowboy was staggering between the tables, apparently trying to make his way to the front of the room. Several saloon gals were mingling with the customers, selling drinks, or themselves, or both. Slocum remembered Charlene talking about being here before long, and he wondered if she were one of these girls. If so, she was by far the best-looking of the bunch. The ones he was looking at just now appeared to have been rode hard and put up wet. They showed a lot of use. He thought about Charlene, and he glanced again at the bastard Totum and his his three asshole buddies. He recalled the way that Charlene had taken the rude behavior of Kansas Totum in stride, and then he thought about just finishing his drink and heading for his room. He did not really like the thought of going where Totum had already been.

  He finished his drink, but he did not turn to leave the Range Boss. Instead, he held the glass up for the barkeep to see, and in another moment, the man was there with the bottle. Slocum paid him again, and when the barkeep walked away, Slocum had another full glass of whiskey in front of him. Then he saw Charlene.

  He did not know where she had come from. She just seemed to have appeared. She was down at the far end of the bar happily chatting with some cowhand. She had changed her clothes to suit her new surroundings. Her shoulders were bare and so was much of her bosom. The red dress she wore was tight above the waist and full below, but it was not long below the waist. It was cut short to reveal lovely, long, and shapely legs, covered only by tight-fitting net stockings. Her makeup was fresh and bright.

  She started working her way down the line, stopping to chat with each man at the bar, smiling and being friendly, acting as if she were speaking to old friends she had not seen for some time, making everyone feel genuinely welcome. Slocum shot another glance at Kansas Totum and his pardners in the mirror. He saw them stand up and begin working their way toward the front of the room. He kept his eyes on them carefully. When they reached the front of the room, he was surprised to see them turn and head for the door. Good, he thought. Good riddance to the bastards. He tried then to put them and Charlene out of his mind and just savor his whiskey. It was good whiskey. And then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  He turned his head to see Charlene smiling into his face. It was a warm and friendly smile. It was welcome, and it was welcoming. Her perfume was delightful, calculated to help drive a man wild. He forgot all about Kansas Totum and anyone else who might have been there before him. He was sure glad to see
her, to see her up close and friendly like this. “Hi, cowboy,” she said.

  “The name’s John Slocum,” he said.

  “I recall it,” she said. “I was wondering if I’d see you here.”

  “You look considerable different from the last time I saw you,” Slocum said. “Not that you was bad then, but you do look different.”

  She let out a musical laugh and pressed her soft and warm body against his. The feeling of it nearly drove him mad, but he contained the feeling pretty well.

  “You like the change?” she asked.

  “Lady,” Slocum said, “I’d like you in anything. I’d like you even better out of anything.”

  “The name’s Charlene,” she said.

  “I recall it,” he said. “And I was hoping I’d see you again tonight.”

  “I told you I’d be here.”

  “You sure enough did.”

  “Are you about ready for another drink?”

  “I think the two I’ve had will do me for tonight,” he said. “I don’t want to get slobbering and staggering drunk. I might have better things to do with myself than that. Right now, I think I’d best head on over to the hotel and get myself to bed.”

  “All by your lonesome?”

  “Unless someone happens along,” he said.

  “You never know around here,” she said. “What’s your room number?”

  Back at the hotel, Slocum stopped at the front desk. He ordered a hot bath, which the clerk promised him would be up shortly, and he asked about having his clothes laundered. The clerk said that the boy who brought the bath would pick them up, and they would be ready for him in the morning. Slocum paid for both the bath and the laundering and went on upstairs, where he sat back and lit a cigar.

  Settled into the tub of hot, sudsy water, Slocum felt his body start to relax. He leaned his head back against one end of the tub and propped his feet against the other. He was still puffing on his cigar. He had placed a table beside the tub, and on the table he had a drink and an ashtray. His Colt was lying there within easy reach too, for he had left the door to his room unlocked in case Charlene should decide to show up. He hoped that she would. The water was tepid now, and the suds were no longer puffy. Slocum’s fingers were wrinkled like prunes. He decided that it was about time for him to get out and get dried off and ready for bed. He clenched the cigar in his teeth and put a hand on each side of the tub. Shoving, he raised himself up. He was standing in the tub when the door opened. He froze in position, almost dropping the cigar from his mouth.

  Charlene stepped in. She stood staring at him and smiling. She turned slightly to shut the door behind her, and noticing the key in the keyhole, she turned it to lock the door. She removed the key and held it in front of her.

  “Well,” she said, “you sure do look different from the last time I saw you.”

  “You, uh, like the change?” Slocum asked, easing himself back down into the water. He put the cigar into the ashtray.

  Charlene walked to the edge of the tub. She held the key out over the water and dropped it so that it fell between Slocum’s legs.

  “Oops,” she said. “I guess I’ll have to go after it.”

  Slocum watched wide-eyed as she stripped off her clothes, allowing them all to drop around her ankles. Standing stark naked, she stepped out of the pile of clothing. She knelt beside the tub, and staring into Slocum’s wide eyes, reached into the water. She felt a thigh, and her fingers crept up its inside until they reached the crotch. Slocum flinched at the touch.

  “Oh, my,” he said.

  “Oh, my,” she repeated. “I’ve found something.”

  Her fingers dandled with his balls, heavy now, and then they moved to the stiff rod and gripped it hard. It bucked and jumped in her fist.

  “Come on in,” said Slocum, “or else let me out.”

  “Make room,” she said. “I’m coming in.”

  He scooted back against one end of the tub while she stepped over the side to sit down in the lukewarm water facing him. He reached out with both hands, taking a ripe breast in each and squeezing gently. She cooed slightly. She took his face between her hands and pulled it to her to kiss him deeply and feel around inside his mouth with her probing tongue. Her hands slid down his body slowly and went under the water, down his belly, and finally to his crotch. One hand went underneath his heavy balls and cupped them. The other gripped his bulging and throbbing cock. Slowly, she began to stroke it. Slocum leaned his head back on the tub and moaned. “Ah,” he said. “Ah.” She continued pumping. Suddenly, Slocum knew that he could last no longer. He felt a welling up from deep in his balls, and he began to spurt. His mouth hung open. His juice floated in the murky water. She stroked and he spurted. At last, he was finished. He sighed a deep and heavy sigh. She kept fondling and stroking the spent rod. He lifted his head to look into her eyes.

  “I didn’t take it all, did I?” she asked.

  “There’s more where that came from,” he said.

  They got out of the tub and dried each other off with the towel that was provided. Charlene took special care with Slocum’s crotch. The cock was still standing up, and she rubbed it carefully and slowly. When she had finished drying him, she hurried over to the bed and jerked the covers off, tossing them onto the floor. Then she fluffed up the pillows. Slocum was watching her from behind, enjoying the sight of her fine, round ass. She turned to look at him.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” she said.

  Slocum walked over to the bed, his rod wavering, his balls swinging, and he crawled in, lying on his back, his head on the pillows, his cock pointed at the ceiling. Charlene crawled in after him. She scooted close to him and kissed him hard on the mouth, clutching his rod once again, making it buck again. Then she crawled on top of him. She kissed his neck. Her tongue licked his chest and his belly as she backed down slowly until her mouth had reached his cock. Her tongue shot out to lick it on the head, and it jumped ferociously. “Aha,” she said, “there’s still life in it.” She licked around the sides and down on the ball sack, slurping it like it was ice cream. Then suddenly, she sucked the entire length of the rod into her mouth. Slocum gasped with the sudden intense pleasure. He raised his head to look at her. She was looking up into his eyes. She drew her head back until her lips were locked around the head, and then she dove down again. Up and down she went. Finally, she pulled off.

  She scrambled up to a straddling position over him. Clutching his cock, she rubbed its head back and forth in her wet slit, at last finding the hole and guiding it in. Then she sat down slowly, moaning with pleasure as she did so, taking the whole length up into her waiting cunt. She sat down hard on Slocum’s midsection. “Um,” she said. “Oh, that’s good.” She slid her butt forward and then back. “Oh. Oh.” She rocked back and forth. She moved faster and faster, and Slocum watched her with fascination. Her movements became more frenzied. She threw her head back in wild abandon as she slid back and forth on the sweat of both their bodies. She moaned loudly. She came near screaming, stopped thrusting, clutched her own breasts in both of her hands. Then she relaxed and fell forward, pressing her breasts against his chest, kissing his neck and then his lips. Slocum could taste the salty sweat as he kissed her neck and lips. He threw his arms around her and held her tight against him. In another moment, she straightened up again.

  “You’re still strong,” she said.

  “I’m still alive,” he said.

  “Well,” she said, “let’s see for how long, cowboy.”

  “You’re a greedy one,” he said.

  “I want as much as I can get.”

  Once again, she started rocking, sliding easily against him, their bodies lubricated by a combination of sweat and the juices running down from her cunt. She rocked long and hard and came again and again and again. At last, as she was thrusting, Slocum felt the pressure build again, and again he shot forth salvo after salvo, this time deep into her body. Finally, they both relaxed. She lay quietly beside him, rubb
ing his slimy cock with one hand.

  “You think you can go again in a minute?” she said.

  “Just give me a short break,” he said, “and we’ll fuck away the night.”

  3

  Slocum woke up the next morning alone in bed. He wondered for a moment if he had dreamed the events of the night before. But he was naked, and he was all sticky. He also felt great. She had been a hell of a woman, and he had enjoyed one hell of a night. He sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched. The tub of water was still sitting in the middle of the room. The water looked murky, and it was cold, but Slocum dipped himself back in and washed himself off. He got out and dried himself quickly. Then he dressed and opened the door, finding his freshly laundered clothes just outside the door in the hallway. He took them in the room and folded them up. Then he rolled them up in his blanket roll, gathered up all his belongings, and left the room. Downstairs, he tossed the key onto the counter and told the clerk that he was checking out.

  He went outside and stood for a moment on the board sidewalk looking up and down the street. There were people walking here and there and a few horsemen on the street. He wondered about Charlene. Would she be working at Baker’s this morning? After a night like last night? He had a sudden thought and dug into his pocket pulling out all his cash. She hadn’t taken any of it. Not a penny. He smiled and stuffed the money back. He decided that he would try Baker’s for breakfast, and he crossed the street and went inside.

  There were still a few people in the place. Most of the breakfast crowd would be gone. Slocum had slept late that morning. He selected a table and sat himself down. Then he noticed that Sheriff Carl Benton was sitting at a table nearby. Benton’s back was toward Slocum, but when he heard the sounds of someone coming in and sitting down, he turned slightly to see who it was. He recognized Slocum at once.

  “Mornin’, Slocum,” he said. “I hope you had a good night last night.”

  Benton had a sly grin on his face. Slocum wondered about it. “It was just fine,” he said.