The Great Game (A Captain Gringo Western Book 10)

by Lou Cameron

  He caught himself in the mirror and tried not to laugh. What the hell was he talking about? The girl with the great ass at Jefferson High had been Molly Brady, the redhead in biology! Jesus, there’d been no doubts about her round rollicking rump under that thin skirt she wore, and he’d often pictured her naked from the rear, with the red fuzz winking as she walked, and that gave him an even bigger erection so that the once skinny Nancy got the full fruits of Molly Brady’s teasing walk. Nancy enjoyed every inch of it. As she moaned she was coming, he fell forward with her across the mattress and put a hand under her to finger her as he slid in and out of her prone quivering body. He let her enjoy it. Then rolled her over to enter her frontally again, deeper, as he pounded his own enjoyment into her semi-sated and sensitized flesh. She pressed her thighs tightly together as he worked on her with his own legs spread outside hers and it felt almost painfully tight. She gasped, “Oh, that’s lovely, that way, when a man is long enough. Do you like it that way, Dick?”

  He answered by exploding inside her, collapsing long enough to recover his breath, and growling in her ear, “That was great foreplay. Now, let’s get down to some serious fucking!”

  She laughed like a naughty child as he raised her knees high enough to hook one over either elbow. As he started moving again, hitting bottom with every stroke, she matched his lust with bumps and grinds as bawdy, saying, “Oh, you’re just as awful as I hoped you’d be. Did you really kill that officer out in Texas, Dick?”

  “For God’s sake, do you want to discuss manslaughter or do you want to fuck, baby?”

  “Both. I like to talk dirty, Dick. Did you know Bruce makes love in his nightgown, with the lights out?”

  “I figured he might. That’s really talking dirty, Nan! You don’t have to tell me your husband’s no good in bed. I had that part figured out already, and I’m sort of old-fashioned about sharing twat with other guys. I’m not dumb enough to insist on virginity, but I like to pretend I’m the only guy using a particular cunt, if it’s all the same with you.”

  She began to bounce to meet him, saying, “Oh, use it all you want, then! I swear it feels like I’m losing my cherry to you, you marvelous brute. God, if you’d really been there when I was playing with myself as a teenager, I think you’d have killed me. Did you ever see that statue of David, without the fig leaf, Dick?”

  “I’ve seen photographs of it in art books. Why?”

  “I used to picture making love to you and that’s what you looked like in my dream. I mean, cock and all. I didn’t know cocks came bigger than poor little David’s, Dick. If I’d really seen you, naked, I’d have fainted dead away, I’ll bet.”

  “Yeah, well, statues are supposed to be more artistic. You’ve got more between your legs than any marble Venus, now that I study it.”

  “Can I get on top, dear? I told you I wanted to try it every way with you.”

  That seemed pretty obvious, but there was something funny going on, here. He withdrew and rolled on his back to let her mount him like a witch on a broomstick. She was obviously enjoying it and it seemed reasonable that a lady with a chance to realize an old sexual fantasy might take advantage of a chance meeting far from home to do so. But she was working too hard, like a whore trying to please a customer. Since he wasn’t paying her in cash and she had all the cock in her, a love sick school girl ever could have imagined, there had to be something else in her pretty little head. Sooner or later they’d get to it. Meanwhile, she was one hell of a lay and his own distraction, by prolonging his orgasms, made him a great one for her, too. Her mouth pursed into a little rosebud as she closed her eyes and gasped, “Oh, God, it’s happening again and I was just doing this to get us hot again!”

  He knew what she meant. He rolled her half off so he could move his own hips faster and as they went at it side-by-side she grinned roguishly at him and said, “Oh, yes, this is the best way to make it last! Where did you learn to screw so good, Dick?”

  “Same place you did, I guess. For a gal with a lukewarm hubby you sure have practiced pretty good with somebody, Nan.”

  She laughed suggestively, thrust her pubis forward to envelope him to the roots and purred, “I cheat on the poor little simp every chance I get. But I must say you’re the best, so far. Roll on top of me, Dick, I’m ready to come again and I want it deep when I do!”

  That sounded reasonable and he rolled over to help her out with what he assumed was another old-fashioned orgasm. But Nan drew her legs up to lock her ankles across the nape of his neck as she swallowed him alive, reaching down to grasp his scrotum as she whipped it back and forth across her anus and then tried to stuff him in the front way, balls and all. He said, “It’s no use, doll, it won’t work that way.” And then he felt her open wider as his testes joined the rest of him inside and he gasped, “That’s impossible. Nobody, ever, took it that deep! Where the hell is it all going, Nan?”

  She moaned and replied, “Out my mouth, if we can manage. Give it to me harder, Dick!”

  “Jesus, take it easy. You’ll rupture something!”

  But she didn’t take it easy and since she damned near ruined him when she clamped down in a long shuddering orgasm, it obviously hadn’t hurt her as much as it had him. He grimaced as she rolled off and she said, “Oh, did I hurt em balzy-walzy? Momma kiss em and make ’em all better.”

  She did that good, too. He stared at the overhead light as he tried to figure out how she’d developed herself so amazingly since school and, more important, what she wanted! The freak show had surprised him more than it had satisfied him, so she was able to arouse him again with oral sex and when he protested he was ready to put it in her again she shook her head, with her mouth full, and swallowed hard as he exploded deep between her tonsils. She had him ready to pass out as she slithered heir moist curves up his overheated flesh to snuggle against him like a contented love toy, or perhaps a boa constrictor. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and collar bone and asked, softly, “Was that as nice for you as it was for me, Dick?”

  He said, “Better. But how long can you stay, Nan? We must have been at it for hours and—”

  “Poor old Bruce said the meeting at the consulate would last half the night. He won’t catch me here with you in any case. He doesn’t know your room number, even if he suspected.”

  “Yeah, but he could find out easily enough if he asked at the desk, and he might, if he comes home to find you missing.”

  “He won’t. I told you I’ve done this sort of thing before. But, by the way, what name did you register under, Darling?”

  “Oh, Jesus, I just remembered! I didn’t use Walker, of course, but I didn’t use Marvin, either. I generally use a Spanish name when I travel. Saves problems when the local cops check registers, see?”

  “Don’t the room clerks suspect you’re not Spanish, Dick?”

  “Sure, but what do they care? Nobody ever checks into a hotel under their own name anyway, unless they’re sissies.”

  She laughed and toyed with the hair on his belly as she said, “Oh, well, we told Bruce you’re some sort of secret agent. But he’ll never look for me here. I always know when Bruce comes home. He wanders about calling my name in the halls. There are certain advantages to staying in hotels with the toilet facilities scattered about the premises.”

  “Oh, I get it. You just nip back and tell him you were pissing someplace else, eh? He must be sort of dumb, if you do that often.”

  “He is, dear. I manage to satisfy him easily enough, whenever he can manage to get his little thing up. So he never suspects I’ve just been with anybody else, and anybody else is better!”

  Captain Gringo grimaced and said, “You somehow give the impression your marriage is not a happy one, Nan. Why don’t you leave Bruce if he’s such a pain?”

  She began to fondle his genitals again as she said, matter of factly, “I’ve thought about it. But my parents arranged our marriage and my father would disown me. That wouldn’t be so bad if my poor father wa
sn’t rather well-off. More important, Bruce has a lot of money, too. I’ve given the clod too many of my best years to let him off that easily. He wouldn’t have to give me a thin dime if I simply left him.”

  Captain Gringo didn’t think it would be gallant to suggest she had a modest fortune between her legs, considering how freely she gave it away. So he shrugged and patted her rump, silently.

  Nancy began to stroke his shaft fondly as she asked, quietly, “Dick, would you do me a little favor?”

  “If I’m up to it, Nan,” he said. “What have we left out? What do you want me to do for you now?”

  “Would you be a dear and kill my husband for me, Dick?”

  He blinked himself wide awake and said, “Come again?”

  “I’d love to. But let’s talk about Bruce, first. I’ve been trying to come up with a fool proof way to get rid of him, so when I met you again and remembered how you liked to kill people—”

  “Stop right there,” he cut in. “Nobody likes to kill people. Nobody normal, anyway.”

  She snuggled closer and gripped his shaft harder as she nodded and said, “I know it’s harder than it looks, Dick. I’ve started to murder Bruce a couple of times and I’ve always lost my nerve at the last minute. But you’re good at killing people, if half of what they say about you is true. They’d suspect me, of course, between his insurance and a little gossip about us in certain circles. But if you killed him, nobody would ever know. You could do it when I had a … a what do you call it?”

  “You mean an alibi, Nan. And stop talking like little goody two shoes. We’re discussing cold blooded murder for gain, Doll Face!”

  She began to stroke him harder as she giggled and replied, “I know. Isn’t it exciting? Nobody would ever suspect you, Dick. Nobody would ever connect you with his death and I’ve got it all figured out. We could make it look like some Venezuelan rebels assassinated him!”

  He started to tell her she was full of shit and probably crazy, too, but this was no time to have a crazy lady mad at him, and there were some odd angles to this mad proposition that might be worth thinking about.

  He said, “Knocking off a Yankee diplomat could bring this crisis to a head, Nan. If Washington thought the Brits were behind it they might stop screwing around and just declare war on England.”

  “Pooh,” she said, “what do we care? You and I don’t have to fight the war. Besides, I don’t think Bruce is important enough. His family bought him his job with the State Department because he didn’t have the brains to graduate from Harvard Law.”

  “Oh? What does he do at the consulate, Nan? Could either of you get to the files and rubber stamps?”

  “Heavens, no. Bruce is just a messenger boy. Why do you think we’re staying in this rinky-tink hotel instead of inside the compound? Bruce travels about delivering things and taking things back to Washington. That’s where we live, most of the time. We have a home in Fairfax County, but we’re hardly ever there.”

  He tried to ignore her finger as she shoved it up his rectum and added something about going sixty nine. He said, “Later. Let’s not get our sins mixed up. Are you saying Bruce is a diplomatic courier? I thought those guys travelled alone with their sealed attaché cases.”

  She began to finger-fuck him with his testes cradled in her palm as she replied, “Most of the younger couriers do, I can report with some pleasure. Couriers get terribly hard up away from home for weeks or months at a time. Bruce says that someday couriers may be able to travel anywhere in the world in a few days. He reads H.G. Wells and Verne a lot. Meanwhile, he takes me along on his silly missions, spending his own money. I don’t think he likes variety as much as I do.”

  “I thought you said he wasn’t very passionate.”

  “Oh, we make love almost every night.” She grimaced, adding, “At least, he does. The silly fat thing poops out just about the time I’m starting to get hot. Honestly, Dick, if you had any idea how many nights I’ve had to satisfy myself in some dingy little port of call!”

  She moved her hand teasingly and her voice got really dirty as she said, “I’ve often day-dreamed about our school days and one night in Rio you and some wax fruit I improvised with had an astounding fuck. I had a hell of a time getting that wax banana out after it was all the way in, but it was worth it. You don’t have any candles or ivory-handled hair brushes in here, do you?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed. Why?”

  “Oh, I thought it would be fun if we did it with both my holes nicely stuffed. You may have noticed Tm built sort of, well, roomy.”

  He grimaced and said, “I’ve no complaints when you clamp down. But you ought to stick to smaller toys if you don’t want to stretch things out of shape. I met a lady one time who’d been trying on all sorts of things for size, and by the time she got to where she could screw a milk bottle, no man on earth could satisfy her.”

  Nancy laughed and said, “I’ll bet I could take a milk bottle, if I put my mind to it. But we were talking about killing Bruce.”

  His dawning erection went limp as her hand suddenly felt like reptiles hissing between his legs. He didn’t owe Bruce Gordon. He didn’t even like Bruce Gordon, but as a fellow human being he couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for any man married to this little she-monster. He was glad he hadn’t known she was a nymphomaniac with a crush on him, back in his schoolboy hard-on days. As a jerk-off kid he’d have been putty in her hands. As a grown man, she was starting to disgust him. But he said, “Okay, let’s think about how we get away after.”

  She said, “I told you it would be easy, Dick. I have a motive, but I can always be having coffee and cake at the consulate when you kill him. Nobody has any reason to connect you with the deed and everybody knows the natives down here are wild and crazy.”

  “Sure they do. There’d still be an all-out flap if almost any Yank was assassinated in the middle of a diplomatic crisis. To clear themselves, even the Brits and various Venezuelan factions would cooperate in any all-out investigation. The local police would turn this town upside down and question everybody, including yours truly. You know I’m wanted on other charges and the papers I carry wouldn’t stand up to a real check out by some wise-ass cop with a long distance telephone at his disposal.”

  Her nails dug thoughtfully into his scrotum as she murmured, coldly, “Oh? Are you saying you won’t do it for me, Dick? I thought as old school chums we had a certain understanding.”

  So there it was, like vomit on the rug. She wasn’t asking him to murder her husband. She was ordering him. One word from Nan and he’d be on his way back to the States in irons!

  Stalling for time, he placed his own free hand in her lap and soothed, “I never said I wouldn’t do it, Honey. I said I have to do it right. You have to remember that if I get caught, you get caught.”

  “You’d tell on me, Dicky-Wicky?”

  “Wouldn’t have to. The hotel help have seen us together. I wouldn’t count on them not knowing about you slipping in here tonight. I’ve heard a couple of people pass my door since you’ve been here and you do come sort of noisy. It’s only a fifty-fifty chance that anyone on the staff knows we’re in here screwing and plotting, but fifty-fifty are lousy odds.”

  “Oh, dear, couldn’t you just kill him and sort of run away, Dick?”

  “No. Not if anyone knows we’ve been playing slap and tickle behind your husband’s back. But there is a way.”

  Her hand between his legs went soft and gentle as she purred, “Oh, I knew a professional would find a way. How many people have you killed, dear Dicky-Bird?”

  “Who counts? How many people have we kissed between us? The idea is not how many guys I may have knocked off in the past, but how we get away with the murder you’re interested in. First of all, I need my own alibi. Can you get me into those coffee and cake orgies at the consulate by introducing me as the innocent Major Marvin you went to school with and know in Washington?”

  “I suppose so. But how will you be able to kill Bruce if
you’re with me at a party, Dick?”

  “I have friends in low places. My sidekick, who shall be nameless, was knifing people before either of us were born. You’ve got to understand that killing people is easy. Getting away with it is the part that takes a little thought.”

  She giggled and said, “Oh, I see, it’s a lot like adultery. But don’t you think it might be dangerous for you to meet the consulate crowd here in Tucupita, considering who you really are?”

  He shook his head and said, “Not as dangerous as appearing to avoid them. There’s an old saying in the army: when in doubt, move toward the sound of the guns. The last place anyone would look for an American outlaw would be the U.S. Consulate.”

  “What if you run into someone there who remembers you from the army?”

  “I’ll be embarrassed as hell. But that’s a chance worth taking. In a town this size any American is going to be pointed out to any other. I served in the Indian Fighting Army. Most of my troopers were black. I doubt like hell any of the good old boys I chased Apache with have been transferred to the State Department. You saw how easy it was to fool your husband, once he’d been introduced formally by someone he already knew. Nobody at the consulate is likely to ask to see the papers of a guest introduced by the wife of a diplomatic courier and, as you may have noticed, I lie pretty good on my feet. Let me get in with the local American Colony and the rest will be easy.”

  “Oh, you’re so smart. How soon will you have your friend kill my mean old husband, Dicky-Wicky?”

  Captain Gringo had no intention of asking Gaston any such thing, even though he knew Gaston was capable of being “practique” if it meant them getting at the visa blanks and rubber stamps he meant to look for at the consulate, if and when they accepted him. He began to fondle Nancy’s clit as he said, “I think I ought to make a couple of visits, first. When, are you two planning to leave Venezuela, doll?”

  “This coming weekend. Bruce brought some secret papers down from Washington and when the consulate finishes a situation report for him to take back, we’ll be boarding a north bound steamer. But do we have to wait that long, darling? Think of the fun we could have if we didn’t have to meet on the sly like this.”