Spur: Nevada Hussy

by Dirk Fletcher

  Through another door they came to a sitting room, with a small, low table in the middle and six large floor pillows scattered around.

  The Indian girl dropped on one of the big pillows.

  "I'm supposed to wait here. The door right over there is where you are to go." She smiled. "Have a good time," she said. Then she drew a book from under the pillow and began to study it. He looked as he walked by. It was a McGuffey Reader.

  He knocked on the door, then gripped the ornate, gold plated knob and turned it.

  Inside the room he was dazzled. There were fifteen lamps of various sizes and shapes burning brightly around the big area. It was a bedroom, more than twenty feet square, with a large round bed with no headboard or footboard in the center of the room.

  Deep, thick carpet covered the floor. The ceiling was paneled with the exception of a section directly over the bed which was covered with large panels of expensive mirrors without a flaw or a waver in them.

  "Like it?" The voice came from Tracy Belcher, who stepped from behind a screen that blended in so well with the far wall that he had not noticed it. She was dressed in a low cut gown, wore a diamond tiara worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, and a huge cut diamond nestled on a silver chain lodged in the cleavage between her breasts.

  The gown was glimmering sheer silk with a dozen petticoats under it. She snapped her fingers and two Indian boys about ten came and stood one on each side of her. Both were naked, their little genitals absolutely flaccid and hairless. Both stared straight ahead. She reached out and one boy took each hand and led her forward toward the bed.

  An ornate, silk covered stool sat near the bed. She motioned to it.

  "Sit down and relax. You're early, so you get to watch the preliminaries, the foreplay." She laughed. "How do you like my bedroom?"

  Spur almost blurted that it was a whore's dream, a cathouse paradise, but he caught himself. "It is amazing. I've never seen anything like it."

  "The fuck you haven't! I patterned it after the best whorehouse I ever saw in New Orleans. The place was magnificent. Cost twenty dollars just to get in the door for the food and musical entertainment. The whores themselves were all overnighters at fifty dollars each! Those were the days!"

  "The big spenders."

  The two naked boys had led her to the bed, six feet away from Spur where they stopped as she sat down. The boys took over, knowing exactly what to do. It was a ritual.

  First they carefully removed the tiara and put it in a velvet lined case. They unfastened the big diamond from around her neck and put it in a box. They removed the diamond rings and gold and silver bracelets from her wrists and ankles. When the jewels had all been placed in cases, the boys stowed them inside a concealed safe in the wall. They came back to her, kissed her cheek, and she fondled their small genitals.

  When they did not get an erection, she smiled, kissed the small limp cocks and nodded.

  The boys began to undress her. Spur sat on the stool, still surprised at the ritual, but reluctant to interfere. The boys unhooked, unsnapped and unbuttoned the flowing sheer gown, and put it on a hanger, then removed layer after layer of clothing until at last Tracy showed a thin, see-through silk chemise that came to her waist.

  Below that she wore the traditional women's drawers, which extended like short pants down to each knee. But these were made of the finest dyed silks available, in a rainbow of colors. The boys unbuttoned them and slid them down slowly, giving Spur a delightfully paced strip tease show. When the drawers were removed from her pudgy figure, the boys took off her chemise revealing at last her best feature, surging, swaying breasts, pink nippled and with overly large pink aerolas.

  The boys put each article of clothing away as it was removed. She stood up and each boy kissed her breasts, then the pinkness of her crotch.

  Once that was done they both laughed and giggled and she shushed them, indicated they should bow to Spur. Then they ran like two normal boys out of the room, each clutching a silver dollar that she had given them.

  Not a word had been spoken in the room for ten minutes. Spur was aware that he had a surging hardon. He grinned. Never had he seen such a buildup, such a tease. He started to stand when she shook her head.

  "We're not through yet," she said. A moment later the Indian girl who had met him at the door came in through the same door the boys had left. She too was naked now, her small, firm breasts hardly bouncing at all as she walked. Her legs were slender and graceful, her belly flat and her skin the shade of burnished gold. Her hair had been combed and brushed until it formed a black rain showering down to her waist.

  She ignored the woman, walked directly to Spur and took his hand, motioning for him to stand. She led him to the other side of the bed where she indicated he should sit down.

  Slowly, she undressed him, starting with his boots, then his vest and his soft brown shirt. When his shirt was off she nuzzled his man breasts, biting tenderly his small nipples, then brushing her lips over his mouth and gently moved her breasts in turn for his kiss and easy nursing.

  Just as he was getting interested in the soft golden flesh, she pulled away and unbuckled his belt. When she had his brown dressup pants unbuttoned down the fly, she motioned for him to stand. He did and she slid down his outer pants but left his briefs on. His hardon tented out the fabric of the white underwear and she looked at it and stifled a giggle.

  Lastly she removed his stockings, then looked at her mistress.

  "Excellent, Canchuna, you may have the honor," Tracy said. She watched Spur McCoy, knowing this would be as interesting as making love with the big man the rest of the night.

  Canchuna, the Indian girl, moved directly in front of Spur. He still stood by the bed. Gently she began to lower his short underwear. As she did she rimmed his waist with short, hot kisses from her reddened lips.

  Spur gasped once, and looked down at the young girl. He had no idea how old she was, but she surely had been given explicit training in how to please a man.

  The underwear slid lower, and again the trail of kisses, both in front and in back. Spur sucked in a breath, and she pushed his shorts down in back and her mouth attacked his buttocks, peppering them with sharp insistent kisses, then her tongue traced a delicate pattern over his twitching mounds until she came seductively close to his anus. He wanted to pull her around to the front but he resisted.

  Now the fabric was at his penis and she came back to the front and stretched it out. Each inch she moved it outward to pull it over his stiff penis, she kissed his tool. He moaned the first time and his hardon began to jerk and twitch.

  Ten kisses later the cloth slipped off the end of his enlarged cock and it swung upward. She caught it neatly with her lips and sucked four inches of him inside her mouth, starting an automatic back and forth motion that left Spur gasping and grabbing her head to stop the motion.

  "Excellent, Canchuna! Wonderful. I couldn't have done any better myself. You have earned the right to stay and watch."

  Quickly Canchuna stepped on the bed, put her arms around Spur's neck and kissed him hard on the lips. Then she jumped down and brought out a stack of large pillows, and lay down on them, resting her chin on her hands as she stared at the bed.

  Spur walked around the bed and sat beside the slightly chubby woman with big breasts.

  "I thought that was the main performance of the evening," Spur said.

  She petted his still turgid penis and shook her head.

  "Big cock man, that was just the appetizer! You have no idea what kind of pure delights I have in store for you before the night is over. Yes, the five of us will have a marvelous time, but I get to be first. Come down here."

  She lay back on the bed and he lay beside her.

  "Do you mind if the girl watches?"

  "Why should I mind?"

  "Good." She rolled on top of him, crushing him into the featherbed. She looked at him from a few inches away, her big breasts pressed against his body.

  "Hey, Spur McCoy. Yo
u really know what a good woman is like? You been messing around with cunts for so long you expect it the first time you see some fancy tits prancing down the street. I know how it is with you men. I bet you've never been married. I know what good loving is, and it ain't always sex and sweat and panting. Yeah, I like to get fucked hard and fast sometimes, but I also like to get kissed when I'm not even thinking of kicking off my clothes. That's the kind of loving I'm missing. Hell, I can get a cock pushed into my hole any damn time I want to. All I have to do is crook a finger and the richest and best looking men in town run up the hill."

  "Like I did."

  "At least you put me off a day. I like that. Showed me you wasn't hard up for pussy." She rolled off him and caught his penis. "Yeah and seeing you all cock hard now makes me want you again, all low down and dirty fucking! But I can wait a while too. I've got more than the naked bitch side to me. Some women don't, you know that. You've popped enough whores in your time. Scratch a whore and mostly you'll find not much else but a cunt and tits."

  She looked at him. "It bother you that I talk dirty?"

  Spur smiled and shook his head.

  "I need to talk this way once in a while. Never did till I got married. My old man would tease me into talking dirty. Helped him to get his juices moving." She sighed and sat up. Tears flooded from her eyes and she took a soft cotton towel the Indian girl handed her. "Christ, you must think I'm a dumb bitch, bawling this way. But thinking about my first and true love does that to me sometimes."

  She wiped her eyes, smiled at him and rubbed her hands over his bare chest.

  "Enough of the damn lecture, let's get on with the fun!" She looked at Canchuna and motioned. "Come over here, little princess. Show us how you masturbate."

  Spur moved over and the slender Indian girl nestled between them, making sure her hips touched each of them. She reached up and petted Tracy's breasts, then with her other hand grabbed Spur's still hard cock.

  Canchuna moaned in delight. She held Spur, but her other hand came back to her V of black pubic hair. Slowly she began to rub her belly, then the soft dark hair and as she did her legs spread slowly apart. She lifted them onto the legs of the figures beside her.

  Faster and faster her magic fingers worked, massaging around her crotch, then working up one leg and down the other. She gave a little cry of joy as her fingers brushed her soft pink nether lips.

  Spur watched, fascinated.

  "Oh, yes, feels wonderful!" Canchuna said. Her hand began stroking Spur's erect phallus. He moved but she didn't notice. Her eyes rolled upward in their sockets until only the whites showed, and her breathing picked up.

  Her slender fingers brushed her soft lips again, then found the hard node above them and touched it once.

  "Marvelous!" Canchuna shouted.

  Her finger twanged the node again and she shuddered. Again and again she strummed her clit and at each movement she grew more and more active. Her hips moved up and down, then side to side. Her breathing surged higher and faster until she was nearly panting. Her grip on Spur eased as she concentrated on her other hand. Then she pulled her hand away and with a little scream, pushed two fingers into her wet, streaming vagina.

  "Oh, yes!" she shouted. "Yes, yes, yes!" she said again, as she pumped her fingers into her in time to the words. Canchuna sat up then, her legs spread wide, her eyes glazed, her hands both busy at her crotch.

  Spur reached toward her and Tracy nodded. He touched one of her small breasts, cupped it and she gave a moan of pleasure. Spur fondled the mound, then massaged it and rolled her tiny nipple between his thumb and finger.

  Canchuna screeched and her whole body shook as if she were being rattled by a big dog. She vibrated and trembled as wave after wave of sexual climaxes rifled through her. The spasms trailed off after a dozen separate and hard sets. She looked up at Spur and bent over, laying her face against his chest, putting her crotch against his hips. One long sigh came, then she nestled down and went to sleep.

  When Spur looked at Tracy she finished wiping tears from her eyes.

  "Wasn't that beautiful! The little darling may seem a bit wanton and sexy, but she is a guaranteed, bonafide virgin. Ain't no man ever knelt between her silky little thighs. You're the first man she's ever done that in front of, first man who has ever touched her when she's doing it. And that's all you're gonna do, so don't get no ideas. Far as I can figure the little sweetheart is fourteen. She's just a baby, and no bastard of a man's cock is gonna hurt her. Not for another three years, at least. By then she'll be a real beauty, a woman with good tits and narrow hips and she'll set the men wild.

  "But you can bet your balls she's gonna be married before she gets cocked! And she's gonna come high. Damn high. Got to be at least a mine owner. None of them fuckers who work underground. My Canchuna is something special."

  Tracy sat up. "Come on. I want you to carry her to bed. Try not to wake her up."

  Canchuna never woke fully. Her eyes came open once as Spur carried her and she put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, then a tender smile came over her face, and she nestled down against his bare chest and slept again.

  Spur laid her in her bed and Tracy spread the sheet and light blanket over her. Tracy bent and kissed her forehead and they took the lamp out of the room and closed the door.

  When they got back into Tracy's big bedroom, the two naked ten year old boys bounced on the bed. They giggled and laughed, but when they saw the naked adults they stopped.

  "Boys help me around the house. Orphaned by a gunfight two years ago. Their mother had just died of the pox, so I took them in. You want to bugger them? They don't mind."

  "How do you know?"

  "They told me," Tracy said.

  Spur scowled and his voice tensed with scorn. "Great, they told you so. If they objected you might throw them out in the streets and they'd have to beg or steal. Why so protective of Canchuna and so stupid with the two boys?"

  "Because I hate all men, why the hell do you suppose?" She scowled. "Hell, you're right. No more of that for the small ones. Only happened once."

  "Once too often," Spur growled.

  She gave a curt gesture and both boys ran out of the room.

  "I might bugger you," Spur said softly.

  "Not the first time you won't. I want it long, and slow and sweet, like we was married or something and you came home from a hard day in the mine office and I was all shy and waiting... and hoping."

  "I could seduce you."

  "Be gentle," she said. "It's my first time." She exploded with laughter. "Yeah, my thousand and first time."

  They sat on the bed and Spur reached in slowly and kissed her cheek, then her nose, and at last her mouth. When their lips parted she nodded.

  "Oh, yes, slow and gentle. I think I'm going to like this. And no dirty talk. Can I pretend we've only been married a couple of months?"

  Spur smiled. "This can be our wedding night, if you like, and we're both only eighteen. This is your very first time in bed with a man. I've tried it a few times, but I'm still learning. How does that sound?"

  Tracy looked up and blinked back tears. She rubbed them away with the back of her hand.

  "Mr. McCoy, you touch my breasts again and I'll have to slap you."

  "Mrs. McCoy, you gave me permission when we got married, remember? Now, just relax. I promise not to hurt you, and I won't do anything you don't want me to do. All right?" He kissed her lips tenderly.

  "All right, Mr. McCoy. I guess the waiting is over. Show me what it's like to make love."

  It was the most marvelous night Spur McCoy could remember.

  A LITTLE AFTER six the following morning, Spur McCoy walked into the telegraph office on D Street. Canchuna had given him the closest and most comfortable shave he had experienced in months, then fed him breakfast and bubbled with questions about everything he did and everywhere he had been. She was especially interested in New York, Chicago and Boston.

  "I want to go there as soon as I ca
n," she had told Spur.

  Now the agent looked at the telegrapher bent over his key. The man was receiving and would not be aware anyone was even in the building until the dots and dashes ceased on his keys. Spur read the notices on the public bulletin board, and saw an advertisement by the telegraph company giving the new rates for telegrams from San Francisco to New York. The first ten words cost four dollars, and each addition word fifty cents.

  "Yep. Help you, young feller?"

  Spur laughed and looked over at the telegrapher. He was apparently in his seventies: balding with fringes of white hair, snapping green eyes, wire rimmed eyeglasses and a tight, thin mouth that looked as if it would brook no foolishness.

  "Spur McCoy. Are there any messages for me?"

  "Know your name. Yep. One. Came in this morning, early." The man handed Spur a white sealed envelope. Inside Spur found a terse, hand written message:

  "Exact day to launch company to come to you via San Francisco. Keep us informed." It was signed Halleck, who was General Wilton D.Halleck, his boss in Washington and the second man in the agency.

  The doubletalk meant that San Francisco would telegraph Spur with the exact date for the mines to start the gold and silver bars on their way in the specially protected train toward San Francisco.

  Until then Spur knew he could do little. He had already pinpointed two of the conspirators, and perhaps a third in Tony Giardello. He had no idea who the spy-robber was inside the sheriff's office. So he would have to work around the sheriff right now. He had to know the day of the shipment as quickly as the sheriff did.

  Spur wanted to investigate the engineers who worked the trains, but he found that most of them were freight trains hauling the ore from the mines directly to the stamping plants in the valley at Carson City, twenty-one miles downgrade. That meant there were dozens of engineers around since trains maneuvered along the one line track almost constantly. During peak mining times as many as forty-five trains a day raced down the steep inclines on the track to Carson City.

  Somehow, out of fifty or sixty engineers, he had to find the exact one who was going to run the special train. He decided to ask the sheriff if a man had been assigned. It may already have been done.