Cold Steel and Hot Lead [How the West Was Done 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 18
“Damn it all to hell!” she cried as the goddamned vibrator petered out again. “Where’d you put that damned key?”
“Here.” Suddenly Rudy was standing next to them, whisking the vibrator from Alameda’s hand and handily cranking the key. “You got The Manipulator!”
Alameda frowned. It was difficult to be disapproving in such a compromising position, heeled slippers spread far apart on the carpet, ass lifted to the heavens, speared by such a stallion. She placed her fingers where the vibrator had been, encircling the base of Derrick’s plunging cock. It always gave her intense pleasure to feel the thickness of his fat prick seated inside of her. “How did you know about that toy?”
Rudy’s grin was light, amused. “He told me he ordered it a long time ago.” He applied the humming contraption to her clitoris again, obviously taking great pleasure in how it made her hiss and sigh like a teapot. “It was a surprise for you. You look properly surprised.”
“Ohh,” Alameda moaned from between clenched teeth. “Yes. Surprised.”
She had to pay attention, however, because Rudy was unbuttoning his own pants with a quick snap of the wrist, passing The Manipulator over to Alameda. As a quick escape artist, he was nude in no time. It was always fascinating to watch Rudy scoop grease from the tin and apply it to his long, heavily veined cock. Especially when he masturbated himself against Derrick’s naked hip like this. Watching them hungrily kiss made her inner pussy clench and grip Derrick’s cock.
Rudy’s hand corkscrewed his cock, grease squishing from between his fingers. In the mirror Alameda watched as they kissed, their jaws moving greedily as they licked each other’s tongues. It was simply too much—too unbearable!
She whined, “I thought you wanted to fuck the first female voter.”
Derrick mumbled something, but it was lost inside Rudy’s hungry mouth.
Alameda waggled her hips to get Derrick going again. “Well? Get up on him then, Rudy! What are you waiting for?”
Rudy leaped to the task at hand, taking another handful of grease and rubbing it expertly against Derrick’s asshole. Alameda loved the way being fucked made Derrick’s cock twitch and jump inside of her. When Rudy fucked him, she could see Derrick’s senses shutting down like a binocular focusing. His nostrils flared, his eyelids fluttered closed, and he gasped as Rudy reamed him like a randy buck.
Riding pillion this way, whenever Rudy thrust into Derrick’s asshole, Alameda felt Derrick’s cock expand and shove inside of her. In this way, they fucked in tandem. When Alameda lifted one knee and propped it against the vanity table, she was as wide open as she ever had been, the little metal Manipulator buzzing away against her clitoris.
It made her hot watching the two men in the mirror, all flexing muscle, jutting hips, gripping hands. Rudy liked to chew on Derrick’s earlobe when he assaulted him from behind, to pinch his nipples or to grip the trunk of Derrick’s penis as he plunged it into Alameda.
“That’s right, Rudy,” Alameda encouraged them now. “Wiggle your hips. Shove your juicy cock deeper in that slick, hot asshole. Derrick loves it. Don’t you, Derrick? Come on. Show Resurrection Rudy how much you like it when he screws you with that nice fat tool.”
“That’s right,” Derrick agreed, his eyes closed against the onslaught of pain and pleasure intermingled. “I like having your long, delicious meat up inside me, Rudy.”
“You’re a nasty fellow, aren’t you,” Rudy said salaciously, running his tongue up the length of Derrick’s neck. “You like being fucked by another man, especially when you’re plugging that voluptuous wife of yours.” He tweaked Derrick’s nipples. “Makes you hot. Gets you aroused. Gets you so fired up to be buggered by another man that you discharge inside of your buxom wife.”
“Damn it to hell!” Alameda had a feeling The Manipulator was about to run out of juice again, and she had exactly two and a half seconds to climb that crest and—Ah!
The orgasm took such a sudden grip on her she found herself convulsing against the vanity. She collapsed under the randy weight of the two fucking men, falling onto The Manipulator as it pleasured her with its last gasps. She had the gadget pasted to the marble of the vanity with the pulsing pressure of her hips.
Derrick cradled her back to his torso, his long athletic arm wrapped about her. With a fistful of her hair keeping her from banging her forehead against the mirror, Derrick exploded inside of her. He shuddered, jerking his hips, eyes squeezed shut. He shot his tasty load deep inside her against the mouth of her womb while Rudy muttered crude things like, “That’s good, Derrick. Fill our woman full of your delicious jism. How do I know how delicious it is? Because I’ve lapped it up and guzzled it down so many times like it was cream…”
By the time Rudy climaxed deep inside of Derrick, the trio was a sweaty mass of limbs. Alameda panted as she tried to buck Derrick off her, but he was so deeply embedded he didn’t seem to want to disengage. So Rudy pulled back first, washing himself off at a basin, practically whistling a happy tune. He came back over to the panting, dripping couple, slapping a dry towel onto Derrick’s slick shoulder.
“I was just thinking this morning,” said the physician, who didn’t customarily utter deep emotional thoughts. “You’ve given me something I haven’t had since Winnie went to the other side. A place to call home. At least, a place I wanted to call home.”
This inspired Alameda to shake off the giant leech attached to her back. She whisked the towel from Derrick’s slumped shoulder and toweled off her moist chest. “That’s such a sweet thing to say, Rudy. You have found a place in our hearts, and I do know we’ll be together forever.”
Finally coming to, Derrick reached around Alameda and whipped the towel away so he could apply it to the back of his neck. He propped his chin on Alameda’s shoulder. “You two are my muse, my inspiration. I would be nowhere without both of you.”
As Alameda threaded her fingers through his thick, damp hair, a new voice blared out from a corner of the room.
“I just wanted to congratulate you, Miss Hudson, on your—oh, what in Jehosophat’s name?”
With mild interest, the three swiveled their heads to view Percy, who had quite literally popped into the corner of the room. He was rigged out in his best Sunday go-to-meeting clothes, but now his arm—which had been looking ever more three-dimensional as the months went by—flew up to cover his face. “Oh, agh! Copulation!”
Rudy frowned and grinned at the same time. “Is he kidding?”
Derrick wrung a fresh towel out in the basin of water and wiped down his chest and neck. “Yes. Since when has Percy cared about seeing us ‘copulate’? Percy, you’re acting as though we burned your eyeballs.”
Percy came forward rather fluidly now, grinning from ear to ear. “I am, of course. I have never seen such joy as when I gaze upon you free lovers. I just like to pull an old wheeze on you. That’s the show business for you! Right, Resurrection Rudy?”
Rudy grinned lazily, stepping into his trousers. “It’s always the show business, Percy.” Since he was the most fully clothed, he strode to answer the knock at the bedroom door one room over. Alameda peeked around the corner as she wriggled into her ruffled, pleated, and ribboned purple silk evening dress.
Montreal Jed’s eyes rounded like lollipops when he saw Alameda. In fact, she often called him The Lollipop Kid because everything on him was round—eyes, head, nose. “Oh, dear Lord!” he cried, also covering his eyes with his hand as Rudy yanked him into the bedroom.
Alameda wriggled her torso into the bodice, but she would need Rudy to button the back for her. So she swished over, enjoying the drag of the gathered, lacey train, knowing she looked like a sensuous mermaid. “Oh, my poor boy. Montreal Jed! You’ve certainly seen worse things before than my bosom. What is the news?”
Montreal Jed peeked directly at her shuddering bosom from between his fingers. “I come to tell you—” He yanked his hand away and angrily confronted Percy. “Dear Lord, Percival! Do you condone this sort of rompi
ng about, this fornication, this…coitus?”
Percy remained grinning. “I always say, if you can’t lick them, join them.”
Jeremiah froze in a position of horror. “Oh, dear Lord! Don’t tell me you’ve gotten all sexy and humpy, too?” He turned to Derrick, who stood behind Alameda, tying his necktie. “Don’t tell me ghosts can participate in matters of that nature?”
Rudy held out a calming hand. “No, no, no. You don’t need to panic about that, Jed. I’m sure that even if Percy had a three-dimensional johnson, Derrick here would slap it back beyond the veil before he could say ‘boo.’ Now, tell us. What’s going on downstairs? Everything running smoothly?”
A look of enlightenment came over Montreal Jed’s face. “Oh. Right! Yes, I did come up here to let you know. That Miss Russell from Cheyenne? She was showing Senator Grimes something inside a very fancy box that smelled of French perfume. The item was so interesting, apparently, that Senator Grimes took her aside into your physician’s office and shut the door.”
Alameda gasped and looked at Derrick, wide-eyed. “That is your Miss Russell, Derrick!”
Montreal Jed continued. “Now, I don’t know much about social graces, but it seemed to me that Mrs. Grimes, when she returns from a tour of your rose garden, might not take it the right way—whichever way is the right way—that her husband went behind closed doors to look at a—” He broke out into a grin. “Why, it’s just like this one, here on your vanity!” He raced over to The Manipulator, which was sitting there neglected.
Alameda rattled Derrick by the bicep. “Derrick! You need to get down there immediately and prevent Senator Grimes from—well, whatever it is he plans to do! If Victoria Russell starts demonstrating that thing to him—”
“My good man!” Rudy called out, striding past Alameda into the dressing room. “That’s quite all right, we know which item you’re referring to. You can put that down now.”
“How does this key work?” Montreal Jed was saying. “What does this thing do?”
Alameda hurriedly brushed her husband’s hair as he buttoned his collar, looking into his own dressing table mirror. It would not do to show up downstairs looking ruffled or harried.
Alameda sighed heavily. “I suppose these are the things the wife of a politician must deal with. Prostitutes showing vibrators to senators.”
Derrick smiled mischievously. “You didn’t expect this when you agreed to marry me, did you?”
“That’s the show business!” Percy chirped over their shoulders, startling them both.
Alameda had to laugh. This may not have been the life she had envisioned, but it would certainly never be dull.
THE END
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END NOTE
In 1869, William Bright introduced a suffrage measure to the territorial legislature. He had served in the Union Army, afterward taking a federal job in Salt Lake City before moving to South Pass, Wyoming, looking for gold. It was felt the women’s vote would induce more women and families to settle in Wyoming Territory.
Some stories say Bright’s wife, Julia, urged him in this quest. Another story is that he promised Esther Morris, who was later the first woman justice of the peace in the States. Whether or not Esther Morris was the main mover and shaker behind the measure, the Cheyenne Leader gave Bright credit for it, printing that “Bright, of Wyoming, is already immortal.” But that first 1870 vote was cast by Eliza A. “Grandma” Swain, not by Alameda Spiro.
Parts of Derrick Spiro’s triumphant speech in the Epilogue are taken from a speech made by Susan B. Anthony in 1873, after she was arrested for casting an “illegal” vote.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Karen’s first three novels were historical fiction involving precolonial African explorers. Since she was always either accused or praised (depending on how you look at it) for writing overly steamy sex scenes, erotic romance was the natural next step. She is currently writing about the rough-and-tumble life of the transcontinental railroad in Wyoming and lives in Northern California with her Newfoundland dog.
For all titles by Karen Mercury, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/karen-mercury
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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