steep cliff. He went up and up and up, and then there was an explosion and he could feel himself falling.
He fell for a long time. Falling slower and slower and slower. At long last he came to rest lying on top of her.
“Aaaaah,” he said. He could feel the sweat between them, even in the cool room. With a sigh he slipped off her and flopped over on his back on the mattress. “Ooooh, me,” he said. His arms and legs felt like they were made out of lead.
She put her hand on his chest and ran her fingers through the curly hair, then said in a little voice, “That was ever so nice. Let’s do it some more.”
He laughed in spite of himself and said, “Hannah, honey, it ain’t like that for a man. He needs a little time to rest in between.”
She reached down and found his member. She said, “My goodness. What happened to this? It ain’t half the size it was.”
She really was an innocent. When she hadn’t bled he’d wondered if she really was a virgin, but girls who rode horses generally broke their maidenheads long before they were old enough to learn about sex. He said, “That’s what I’m talking about. A man has to rest. You wore it down to a nub. It’s got to grow back.”
“Is that right?” She sounded alarmed.
He laughed and sat up. He wanted a smoke and a drink of whiskey. Over her strong protests he tried to put on his socks so he could pull on his boots. She said, “Don’t get up yet, Marshal. Let’s do it again.”
He shook his head. “Hannah, honey, a man ain’t like that. It takes a while.”
“Well, when?”
He glanced at the window and saw twilight descending. He said, “You owe me supper. After I eat.”
“How come we can’t before then?”
He pulled on a boot. “Hannah, when a man drops his load it takes him a while to build it back up. It’s like the opposite of eating a big meal.
You ain’t hungry right away. It takes a little time.” He looked around at her, admiring the shape and symmetry of her body. “A woman is lucky that way. And you are luckier than most.”
“How am I luckier?”
He said, “You’ve got a big and a prominent clitoris. It’s easy for my big old dong to work back and forth on it. That’s what makes you climax.”
“What’s that?”
It made him smile because it had been so long since he had instructed a woman about her body. He reached in and felt around until he could touch the now-soft clitoris up at the top of her vagina. He said, “You know how you go up and up and up and then you kind of explode inside?”
She put her hand on his and moved her hips against his finger. “You mean when it feels good all over?”
“When you yell. When you scream.”
“Did I scream?”
“Several times. Well, that’s the climax. But you can do it more than one time. In fact, I think you did it about four times.”
“But how am I luckier?” She now had his hand gripped with both of hers. With an effort he pulled it back from between her legs. He said, “Because most women’s clitoris is kind of buried down deep and the man’s member doesn’t touch it. Sometimes it’s way up and out of position. Then those women, unless the man knows what to do with his tongue and his finger, don’t ever have a climax.”
“How come you know so much?”
He pulled up his jeans and then put on his boots. He stood up. “You better get up, girl, and see about fixing me some supper. I ain’t going to answer any more questions until I get fed.”
She made him a supper of steak and mashed potatoes and gravy with canned tomatoes. She didn’t eat, but sat across from him with her elbows propped on the table and her face in her hands, staring at him.
He had had a difficult time getting her to put on some clothes. She had set out to fix the supper in her bare skin, but he had explained that was too hard on him. He’d said, “Hannah, you go around like that, you are going to get me all heated up for no purpose. And then I’ll be like a piece of meat you keep heating and not eating and then warming up again. Pretty soon I’ll get so tough and tasteless you won’t want no part of me.” In the end she had consented to put on a thin, cotton wrapper that went around once and then tied with a sash. But the sash kept coming undone, and besides, the wrapper wasn’t up to the job it was intended for. Her breasts kept falling out, or the bottom part of the wrapper would open clear to her downy bush. It was, Longarm thought, about like trying to hide a horse under a handkerchief.
She watched him, never taking her eyes off his face. She said, “How come you know so much about, about …” She made a gesture toward the bed. “About all that stuff?”
He said, “Same way I know about horses and guns. I’ve had the use of them.”
“You mean you’ve done it a lot.”
He smiled. “Well, not as much as I’ve wanted to. But I reckon every man can say that.”
She made a pouty face. “I wish I was experienced like you.”
He put his fork down. “Oh, no, you don’t.” He glanced off into the distance, remembering. “I wish, just once, I could go back to when it was all brand-new.” He shook his head. “Enjoy this part, girl. It won’t ever be like this again.”
“You mean you get tired of it?”
