“But darling, didn’t I tell you? Tommy’s family is very rich. I have to see about my allowance, dear. I need an increase. So I’ll spend a month or so letting Tom paw my body, and then when I have what I need I’ll go down to Mexico and find out if they really do that down there. Tell me, won’t you? Tell me the truth.”
“I don’t know if they do any such a thing,” Longarm lied. “Don’t care neither.” That was certainly the truth.
“Oh, this feels so nice,” she cooed as she stroked and pulled at his erection.
“Go back to your husband, Mrs. Wingate. I don’t want you.”
“You’re lying now, dear. I can feel in this tool of yours that you want me. Your prick wants me, dear, even if you think you don’t. Your prick knows. Always trust your prick, darling. It won’t lead you astray.”
Now there was some sage advice, Longarm thought. Sure. You bet. “Go back to your husband now. Please.”
“What for, dear? Poor Tommy is already worn out. Can you believe it? One, two little climaxes and he’s done for. He is in his bed snoring up a proper storm. And so satisfied that he’s sleeping with a smile on his silly face. He didn’t give me near enough, dear. So I thought I would come visit you and get the rest of what I need tonight.”
“No, thanks. I’m not interested.”
“Of course you are, dearest.” She squeezed his cock. Rather sharply this time. “Besides, if you don’t do what I want, darling, I just may scream and burst into such big old tears that anyone, just anyone, would have to believe that you tried to molest me.”
Longarm took her hand and pulled it away from his pecker. “Leave me alone, damn you.”
“I’ll scream. Believe me, dear, I can wake up this entire camp. What will they think, hmm? You could go to one of those prisons you’ve helped to fill with those horrid, nasty little bad men. You might even hang for trying to rape me. Oh, doesn’t that make you all hot and horny just thinking about it? You could die for me, love. Even if you don’t especially want to.”
“Mrs. Wingate, whyn’t you go fuck yourself if it’s a fuck you want so awful bad.”
“I’m warning you, Marshal. I’ll scream. I will.”
“Go ahead.”
“What?”
“I said go ahead. Scream your fool head off. If anybody hears you … an’ I doubt that they would, seeing as how we’re buried under three, four feet o’ dirt and sod in this dugout … but even if somebody does hear you, they wouldn’t hang me without a court-martial. An’ just think what it’d do to your reputation when my friend Quentin Cooper, the stage driver, testifies about you giving me blow jobs on the roof of the coach on the way up here. You thought he didn’t notice? Hell, Quint thought that was one of the funniest things he ever saw, you on your knees with your face full of cock. And once Quint testifies, darling … just think what effect that will have on Colonel Wingate’s family.” His voice hardened. “Think what effect Quint’s testimony will have on your allowance.”
“You wouldn’t!” she gasped.
“Scream, bitch. That’s the only way you’ll really find out if I’m running a bluff. You wanta make sure you’re heard? Step outside before you yell. Make sure someone comes to rescue you. Then see how it works out from there.”
“You bastard.”
“You bitch.”
“I hate your guts, damn you.”
“Seems fair enough since I don’t have a helluva lot of regard for you neither.”
“God, I want you. Fuck me. I’ll leave you alone after that, dear. I promise. But I’m so hot I’ll burn up if I can’t get your cock inside me right now.”
“Sorry. Not interested.”
“Liar.”
But in fact he was not. His erection had subsided by now, and no amount of kneading and pulling would bring it back. Mrs. Wingate dropped to her knees and tried to blow him again, sucking and making wet, gobbling noises in her anxiety to prove that she could command pleasure from him.
Her efforts were in vain. All she managed to do was to make him wet with her saliva. Longarm’s pecker remained flaccid and limp in her mouth.
For one awful moment he thought she was going to bite in her frustration, but fortunately she did not think of that. He was sure the only reason she would refrain, however, was because it did not occur to her. Restraint … and for that matter, rational behavior … did not seem to be the lady’s long suit.
“Bastard,” she spat at him when finally she let his prick slide out from between her lips.
“Bitch.”
She stood and slapped him across the face. Hard.
Longarm slapped her back.
“Oh, God, yes. Do that again.”
Thoroughly disgusted, Longarm spun the woman around, planted a foot in her backside, and gave her a shove that sent her tumbling through the doorway and out into the moonlit night.
He found her hat and the much-remembered duster on the floor, gathered them into a clumsy wad, and threw them out too.
