by Tabor Evans
Amanda ran a very efficient boardinghouse, with boarders fed well at her serving table morning and evening alike.
And the lady liked to fuck.
Longarm felt her tongue slide into his mouth and her hand grope his cock.
She stepped back from him and winked again. “Later, dear. After my duties are done.”
She led him into the parlor and got him settled into a comfortable chair, then disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later a tall woman emerged from that same door, this lady carrying a tray with a bottle of brandy and snifters.
Longarm jumped to his feet. “Ma’am.”
She smiled. “I’m LouAnne,” she said. “Amanda and I were roommates at finishing school. Now we live much too far apart, so I am here for a visit.”
That put LouAnne at about the same age as Amanda, but physically the two could not have been much more different. LouAnne was tall and slim and elegant. She had dark auburn hair and green eyes, apple cheeks and long, long eyelashes.
“Brandy?” she offered.
“Sure.”
LouAnne poured the brandy and handed the balloon glass to Longarm. He remembered how a gentleman was supposed to handle the drink—although he preferred less fuss and more kick—so he stuck his nose above the bell of the brandy snifter and inhaled.
Not that he knew what all the fuss was supposed to be about. Booze was booze and the idea was to drink it, not to sniff it.
Still, it was all a matter of politeness, he supposed. He saluted LouAnne with his glass and took a swig. For brandy this was not bad stuff.
“Another?” Mandy’s old friend offered.
“Sure, why not.”
“Dinner will be served promptly at six, then the gentlemen will retire either to the parlor or to the porch. Mandy suggests you might like to join the two of us in her suite,” LouAnne said.
Longarm nodded and took a small sip—he had guzzled the first glass, forgetting that brandy drinkers were supposed to go slow with their drinking for some reason—then said, “It’ll be my pleasure.”
When LouAnne bent down to serve the brandy, he could not help but notice that the lady had practically nothing inside the bodice of her gown. She just about had no tits.
Not that that mattered. But she was otherwise a rather attractive woman.
None of his business, of course. She was just Mandy’s old pal, probably married and with a passel of children back wherever it was that she came from.
“Six, you said,” he said, regretting that he’d left his watch back home. He was getting hungry.
“Can I get you something to tide you over?”
Longarm grinned. “You, lady, are a mind reader. Thanks.”
“Make yourself comfortable there.” She laughed. “You will know when it is time for dinner. There will be a stampede for the dining room that you won’t be able to miss.”
Longarm saluted the lady with his snifter again and reached for the brandy decanter to help himself to another. It seemed the more he drank of this shit the better he liked it.
Chapter 5
They left LouAnne in the parlor chatting with some of the gentlemen who boarded with Amanda. Longarm and his gracious hostess retired to her suite, which consisted of a small sitting room where she could escape to some privacy and a much larger and comfortably furnished bedroom.
Amanda shed her clothing with a magician’s speed. Longarm grinned and shucked his as well.
He had long heard the expression that anything more than a mouthful was wasted, but he had to admire tits as large as Mandy’s. They were as big as ripe melons with nipples the size of a workingman’s thumb. He happened to know from past experience that those nipples were marvelously sensitive.
Her tits were beginning to sag as middle age set in, but her waist was still small, her belly reasonably flat, and her legs shapely. Her bush was black and tightly curled.
He took her into his arms and kissed her, then allowed her—it was awfully nice of him—to lead him to the bed.
“Wait,” she said. Amanda turned and drew the bedspread down. Longarm thought the rear view was quite as nice as the front of her. Her butt was round and pink, and he happened to know that she liked to be fucked there.
When she straightened up, he wrapped his arms around her, his now throbbingly erect cock fitting nicely into the crack of her ass, and kissed her on the back of the neck.
Amanda shivered and guided his hands to her tits. He toyed with her nipples. This time she shuddered with a sudden convulsive climax. He had forgotten how easily the lady came, but he liked it. A woman who reached her climax that quickly was a pleasure, made a man feel like quite the accomplished lover, never mind that it was her sensitivity and not his expertise that made the difference.
Longarm turned her around and kissed her again. While their mouths were locked together, their tongues probing and fencing, he picked her up and placed her down onto the sheets.
“Don’t come inside yet,” Mandy warned. “I want you nice and fresh while I suck you for a while first. And if you don’t mind, I would like for you to suck me too.”
“I don’t mind a bit,” Longarm whispered into her ear.
Amanda laughed. “That tickles.”
“Good.” He did it again, and she shivered. He was not sure if she had come again or not, so he did it a third time. This time he was sure. She reached another climax.
He dipped his head to her tits and began to suck her right nipple.
“Wait,” Amanda said. She wriggled around beneath him so that her head was at his crotch while his nose was buried in her bush. “Now,” she said.
She peeled back his foreskin and took him into her mouth, engulfing him in wet heat.
“Damn that feels good,” he said.
“Shut up and lick me,” Amanda demanded.
He did as he was asked, and the woman shuddered again, her pussy clenching tight and practically asking for a dick to be placed there.
In good time, he thought. That was one of the advantages of starting early. They had plenty of time to play and explore and enjoy.
Longarm’s nose was buried in Amanda’s pussy when he heard the unmistakable click of a door latch being opened. And him caught naked as a boiled egg with his face buried in Amanda Carricker’s short and curlies.
Chapter 6
“Naughty, naughty.” And then laughter.
Longarm looked up, fairly well mortified, to see Mandy’s old school chum LouAnne standing beside the bed.
“And what are you two doing?” LouAnne said. “As if I didn’t know. Shame on you.” She laughed. “Shame on you for not inviting me to this party.” With that the tall, lovely woman began to strip off her clothing.
LouAnne, it turned out, had a perfectly lovely body, long and sleek and flawless. Flawless, that is, unless you counted an almost complete absence of tits as a flaw.
What passed for tits on LouAnne’s scrawny chest were tiny bags of flesh with even smaller pink nipples set atop. Longarm had seen flapjacks with more body than LouAnne’s tits.
The rest of her body was well nigh perfect, however. Her belly was completely flat, her waist tiny—Longarm wondered if she might have taken a page from the book of Southern girls who had their lower ribs removed so they could achieve unnaturally small waists—and her legs slim.
She had no pubic hair. None. Her crotch was as naked as the rest of her. Obviously she shaved there, and had done so recently because she had no stubble. Longarm liked the look. She seemed clean and inviting with her pink slit on display.
“Well?” she demanded.
Amanda rolled onto her back and smiled. “Come join us,” she invited.
LouAnne did not have to be asked twice. She lay down and began fondling Mandy’s tits, then sucking her friend’s nipples.
“You don’t mind, do you, dear?” Aman
da asked.
“I, un, no, of course not,” Longarm stammered.
“Good.” LouAnne transferred her attentions to Longarm, alternately kissing him and then kissing Amanda’s pussy.
She moved toward the foot of the bed and while Longarm ate Amanda’s cunt, LouAnne sucked Longarm’s cock.
“Tasty,” she said at one point, smacking her lips loudly and then laughing.
“Have you come yet, dear?” LouAnne asked.
Longarm was not sure which of them the question was intended for, but Amanda answered, “Not yet, sweetie.”
“Let me know when you do.”
A minute or so later Amanda shuddered and moaned and shortly afterward said, “Oh, yes, I did.”
“Then let’s switch,” LouAnne said. “I want to taste that sweet pussy juice.”
Longarm lay on his back while the girls exchanged places, Amanda going down on his rock-hard cock while Longarm had the distinct pleasure of eating LouAnne’s clean and smooth and lightly perfumed pussy.
“Both now,” LouAnne said after several minutes.
Longarm did not know what the two women intended. He had no complaints when he found out. Both of them concentrated on his middle, Amanda sucking his cock while LouAnne licked and sucked his balls.
They rolled him onto his side, and laughing playfully, the two moved one in front and the other in back, LouAnne sucking Longarm’s cock while Amanda tongued his asshole and the sensitive area at the base of his balls.
“Unless you want . . . ,” he began, then, “Oh, never mind.”
He let go, releasing his load of cum into a mouth. At that point he was not even entirely sure whose mouth he was coming in—it turned out to be LouAnne’s—and he did not much care. Whoever it was felt damned good deep in her mouth.
The girls sat up laughing and wiping their mouths.
“Switch now,” Amanda said.
“Again?” Longarm asked.
“Oh, I think you will like this, dear.”
“I’ve damn sure liked it so far, so just tell me what you have in mind.”
What Amanda intended became clear soon enough. Amanda sucked Longarm while Longarm sucked LouAnne while LouAnne sucked Amanda.
“The way we play,” Amanda explained helpfully, “is that we stay like this until everyone has had a chance to come.” She giggled. “Then we switch around and everybody swaps.”
“That’s when I get to drink your cum,” LouAnne said.
“And I get to eat Annie’s pussy,” Amanda added.
“See? Now, come on. It will be fun.”
It was fun indeed.
Chapter 7
Longarm ate an early breakfast at the kitchen table. He did not want to show himself in the dining room lest he confuse the paying boarders, who did not have kitchen—or bed—privileges.
It was still dark when he slipped out the back door and made his way back to the livery. Early as it was, the liveryman was awake and busy with his animals.
“You’re ready to go? Give me a few minutes and I’ll have you loaded for the trail,” the liveryman said. He smiled. “I wasn’t expecting you quite so early. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, Eugene,” Longarm told him. “My plans . . .” He laughed, then said, “I don’t have any plans, actually. Feels strange for a change.”
He checked the loading, but Eugene knew his business and did a more than competent job of getting Longarm’s saddle and packs secured in place. Longarm just hoped he could get everything back the way it was supposed to be after he broke the packs down come evening.
That, however, would be hours and miles away from Silver Plume. And from Amanda.
Longarm smiled, thinking of her. And her girlhood friend LouAnne. They were quite a pair.
He wondered if he was going to have to stop somewhere this afternoon and take a nap. He damn sure had not gotten much sleep during the night.
“You’re all set,” Eugene said just as the sky was beginning to grow pale toward the east.
The hostler had chosen a sturdy, brown mare for Longarm’s mount and a fuzzy-eared burro to carry the packs. The saddle on the brown was wide and comfortable, unlike the army-style McClellan ball-buster Longarm usually rode.
He almost felt guilty about granting himself so much comfort. Almost. He was on vacation, wasn’t he? He deserved a little time away to fish and loaf and relax.
He stepped up onto that very comfortable saddle and smiled. It felt good for a change.
“Thanks, Eugene. Don’t look for me to be back for a couple, three weeks or so. I figure to be up in the high country enjoying life.”
“Wish I could go with you, Marshal.”
“Next time maybe you can,” Longarm said, not meaning it but wanting to be polite. He touched the brim of his Stetson and let the mare walk out of the barn, the burro following docilely behind on a cotton lead rope.
It was good to be on vacation, he thought.
Chapter 8
A narrow switchback trail led north from Silver Plume, probably an old game trail widened and put into use by prospectors seeking the precious metals that made Colorado such an integral part of the nation’s economy, and by the freighters and miners who came after them.
Longarm made his way slowly up the south slope of the mountain that loomed above Amanda’s boardinghouse. He was in no hurry. After all, he was on vacation.
He passed only one other outfit, a short string of very large mules that were on their way down the same trail. Longarm tried to be sociable, but the muleskinner was in no humor for pleasantries. The man barely grunted an acknowledgment of Longarm’s presence after Longarm politely pulled off on the side of the trail to allow the mules to pass. Then man and mules were gone, and Longarm was left with no company save his own animals and a hawk riding high overhead on some unseen air current.
Noontime found Longarm midway up the mountain. He paused for a cold lunch of hardtack and jerky and a swallow of tepid water from his canteen, then continued on hoping that the damn trout were worth all this.
Dusk came just as he crested the mountaintop. The view was fabulous, even by Colorado standards. Tall mountains and deep canyons surrounded him, and the cold, crisp air reached deep into his lungs. It seemed to please his soul as much as it did his body, and he dismounted to stand and admire.
If there were any church or cathedral as grand as this, he reckoned, he would be a regular attendee.
Standing and ogling was not accomplishing anything, though. He quickly stripped both horse and burro of the burdens they had carried all day long. He hobbled the animals and turned them loose to forage a meal for themselves while he added some rocks to a firepit that others before him had used up here.
He collected some reasonably dry deadwood and built a small fire. He poured enough water into his pot to make two cups of coffee, one for tonight and the other to be saved for morning, and gave the rest of his water to the animals.
Come morning he would need to find that fishing lake or mountain stream, if only to provide water for himself and the animals.
He mixed some dough with flour, lard, and salt and wrapped it around a stick that he used to roast the dough over the side of the fire while the coffee water was boiling.
“This is the life, eh?” he said aloud to the grazing horse and burro. Neither responded, so Longarm sat and shivered in the evening chill. He thought about getting up and digging his coat out of the packs, then decided that would be too much work. It was easier to sit in the flickering glow of the firelight and shiver.
Within minutes of finishing his meal, such as it was, he spread his bedroll and lay down to an overdue sleep. He was so tired he was almost glad that neither Amanda nor LouAnne was here with him.
Chapter 9
“What the . . . !”
Longarm came upright off his bedroll, on his fee
t with his .45 in hand before he consciously realized that he was awake.
Someone was trying to steal his horse. The moon was not yet up, so it must have been early in the night, but by the dim light of a crisply cold Milky Way he could see a pale figure trying to get the hobbles off the animal.
Longarm did not hesitate. Horse stealing was still a hanging offense in Colorado, and he had always thought that 255 grains of .45-caliber lead were the equivalent of a hangman’s noose.
He took careful aim, so as to avoid hitting his own animal, and triggered off a shot.
The thief crumpled to the rocky ground, hit somewhere in the back.
Longarm rushed forward, ready to fire again if the son of a bitch offered to shoot back. He knelt beside the would-be thief.
And cursed aloud.
The person who was trying to steal his horse was a woman. He knew that for certain sure because she was wearing a flimsy sort of nightgown and had hair down to her butt.
She might have been pretty or homely, he had no idea. There was not enough light for him to see her that well. But one thing he was sure of was that his bullet had found its mark. She was bleeding, although not heavily.
He leaned close and thought he could hear ragged, rasping breathing that would suggest he had hit her through a lung.
People can survive a punctured lung. Sometimes. They might also simply lie down and die instead. If she did . . . Longarm would have no regrets. The woman had been trying to steal his horse. The shooting was justified. He had no doubt that a jury would see it that way.
On the other hand, he did not want this woman to die. He would save her if he could.
He picked her up—she seemed to weigh next to nothing—and carried her to his bedroll and placed her on it. Then he fumbled around for the wood he had laid ready for morning and rekindled his fire, building it up high so he could get a better look at her and her wound.
Even with the firelight it took him some time to figure out the maze of buttons and ribbons that held her nightdress together in the front, and more time to work it off of her without causing more pain than was absolutely necessary.