Life Is Good in the Shade

The missus mouth worked the talleywacker right to the balls and back several times bringing me to nearly sing the praises of glory to the heavens or at least to the rafters above where I'm sure the clever sister Penelope was taking in every breath of sound. It didn't matter; I was going to get it.

I rolled Samantha onto her back and guided the cock right into the valley of pleasure and humped that little cunt of mine until the first peal of pleasure escaped her lips. Something urged her to rake her nails across the cheeks of my ass causing me to clench and let loose the seed with an exclamation of my own. I heard the muffled giggle above and paid no mind.

We both lay there for a while with the soft breeze drifting in from the opened window.

"Nathaniel, when you're out riding trail, would you mind if Penelope and I stayed out to town with the Brandts' instead of coming all the way back out here. They've got the room above the store and with all the scoundrels riding about it'd be safer especially with Bert and Wilbur riding with you."

After the stories of marauding desperadoes and miscreants stealing off the good women folk and doing only god knows what with them I was inclined to agree with her. I'd have a long ride coming up when they move the herds in the stock pens up on the trail to Kansas and the Brandt's were good folk.

"I'm not opposed to that at all, woman. Besides, I need you to keep a close eye on your sister. She's got a roving eye from what I've heard." I whispered so as not to let the little tart above us hear.

"Whatsoever do you mean, Nathaniel" She said a bit louder than I preferred.

"Shhh, keep it down. I don't mean nothing about it, just menfolk talk, that's all. There's a lot of men around town who wouldn't think twice to ply her all up and have ways with her. Just keep an eye on her, for her sake."

It was the conversation that night at the campfire that raised my concern but I didn't share that with her. I still needed to know more before I acted. The boys were right. These were matters settled with blood if the sister was violated in any way.

In the meantime I settled for another go at my missus' cunt before getting the sleep eye for morning......

"No sir, boss, we never seen the miss go into Kitty Lu's nor your missus either. That's a fact. There's some women folk who come in from the back to get a shot or two mostly when their men folk ain't paying attention but I know Bert and me, we go in there pretty much regular and they ain't been there when we was. Ain't that right, BT?"

Wilbur looked over at his brother with an imploring expression before Bert replied.

"Boss, that's right. We're in there a couple times a week at least especially since the Broken Dollar makes us pay up front. Kitty Lu's lets us carry it till payday and all but no sir I've never seen Miss Penelope or your missus in the back room."

I didn't tell them I had heard their talk a while back thinking it best not to let them know I knew too much. Hell, for all I knew one of them or the two of them might have been humping it themselves. I know Samantha and Penelope both liked the boys and I'd look like stink if I made any trouble without knowing what's right.

The three of us were leaving on the Kansas drive in the morning at least for part of the way. A team of 'pokes would join in with another herd and I'd head back down to Fort Worth while Bert and Wilbur would continue on......

We had been out long enough to catch the Chisholm up on the Red River when all hell broke loose. A crew of pokes had been running a herd up from San Antonio and apparently had the law after a few of them for cussed mayhem on a couple ranches this side of Austin. Somebody got killed and a couple women were ravaged and one of the whores riding with them by the time they got to the river turned out to be a girl taken from one of the ranches, fourteen at the oldest by some accounts......

We never saw or heard them coming, not even a dust trail. That was how I knew we were dealing with one of two adversaries. We either had an Indian uprising or this was a well- organized posse with some old Texas Rangers in their midst. It turned out to be the latter consisting of nine former Rangers, all of them experienced in the Comanche wars a decade earlier.

They didn't wait for shots or resistance. All nine of them came in swooping down from a ridge line racing like fire out of Hades with six shooters blazing. I heard two pings going overheard and yanked Bert down by his britches while Wilbur still stood looking out, ignorant of the danger riding all around him. I looked up at him as he drew his long barrel up to take aim just in time to see him take lead in his shoulder. The next one sent him to be with his momma in glory as he fell down dead as a rock on the stump off to the side.

There's something to be said about these Texas Rangers. The writers and picture men from back east all wrote great tales about their exploits and unbounded honor. It was horse manure, every bit of it. These men were murderers when given the chance. Hell, they weren't any better than the scoundrels they were chasing for the most part. There were lots of exceptions I'm sure but a lot of these guys learned to taste blood in Indian wars and of course, the Great War itself. They'd been disbanded a few times over the years but they always seemed to show up as lawmen in any number of frontier towns.

Wilbur had been gunned down by a Texas Ranger for being stupid enough to think he could raise a barrel against them. His vacant eyes just stared ahead now and Bert brushed the bloody mop off his brother's forehead, tears in his own eyes.

I tossed my white handkerchief on top of the boulder in front of us as one of the horsemen yelled out for us to come out slowly with hands in the air. We complied half expecting to be gunned down right there.

"Get your faces in the dirt, cowboys."

We wasted no time in doing so. Two of them came over and relieved us of our side arms. There were nine of them and twenty of us including the 'pokes they were chasing but there could have been a hundred of us and it wouldn't have mattered. Only a few of us were hired gun hands and I wasn't one of them.

"You murdering bastards- "Bert muttered with contempt.

I kicked him as hard as I could in his ankle to shut him up. Fortunately none of the men paid him any mind.

"That ain't him" one of them said as they rolled over the corpse of Wilbur.

About that time a couple of the other lawmen rode up with three 'pokes lassoed together being pulled along behind the horses.

"They found the girl with the whores. She's still pretty but she ain't gonna be marrying any gentleman soon." said one of the fellows on horseback.

One of the law men pointed to a pecan tree silhouetted on the ridge they charged down from.

"That'll do just fine." A man who seemed to be their leader said.

One of the riders got down and pulled a long rope out of one of the saddle bags on a pack horse and in short order had a thirteen turn noose fashioned with about 15 feet of free rope. He had a glint in his eye as he stared at the three.

"I need two more." He shouted out as he walked off to find additional ropes. When he returned the three 'pokes had been stripped of their boots and anything of value, one of them pissing his pants and the smell of loosened bowels rising from another.

They were walked up the ridge to their doom; no trial, no witnesses other than the girl they found with the whores. They didn't drop them at the end of a rope. They were hoisted up, feet kicking and eyes bulging; horrible sights no matter the circumstance. The lawmen left them there for the buzzards, still hanging from the sturdy branch of that gnarly pecan tree...

"Boss, I need to take him to Missouri to bury him with Mamma. Papa would never forgive me if I didn't." Bert was fighting back the emotions but I understood.

He wrapped his brother up tight and laid him across a pack horse and with his brother's mare tagging along Bert set out for Missouri from the banks of the Red River on the Oklahoma territory side. That was the last I saw of him. I got a letter from him later letting me know he was going to stay back on the farm up there and tend to crops with his Papa.

With both the boys gone and short three 'poke hands I stayed on the drive all the way to Kansas City. I got a wire sent to Fort Worth letting Samantha know the circumstances and once everything was settled up I found a room at a fancy house and had the biggest damn steak trail money could buy along with a bottle of fancy European liquor the starchy fellow in the white overalls called Cog Nack. Every drop of it was damn good so I picked up two more bottles of it to take back to the ranch...

"I know a big man like you could use a bit of company." She smelled damn nice and her milky white creamy skin was as inviting as a spoon of honey on a hungry tongue.

This wasn't a Dallas whorehouse. This was a fancy Kansas City establishment with silk sheets upstairs and fine back east linens on the tables downstairs. I don't think you could even call her a whore; she was a gentleman's escort and probably had the sweetest cunt short of a church house virgin in fresh country gingham.

"Well, I don't mind sharing a drink with a beautiful lady like yourself but ma'am, I've got to let you know beforehand I've got a bride I'm beholden to so a good drink and some kind words is probably all I'm going to be good for."

"Honey that would be just perfect for me about right now. My name's Gertie." She offered me her hand and I took it and kissed it like I was some kind of city gentleman.

Assuming what she told me had some semblance to the truth I learned she was from Charleston down in the Carolinas, the daughter of a rice farmer who lost everything in the Great War and died of consumption leaving Gertie and a brother to their own chance. He went down into the Florida parishes and she came out west deciding to stay here in Kansas City.

While church folk would consider her to be a whore like any other Bertie only comforted men to her liking; southern men, gentlemen, people from her own upbringing. She had the looks and charm as well as the wits to steer clear of the barkeeps and lawmen that used women like her as chattel for earnings. What she saw in me only she knew.

We chased a few shots together and I damn near came close to picking that beautiful woman up and taking her to my room upstairs but the truth was I couldn't afford it and even if I could I had cunt just as fine waiting for me at home. We parted company with words of kindness and I made my way upstairs to rest for my ride back down into the Lone Star...

I rode down with a wagon train of goods on the way to Dallas and a dozen new settlers looking to carve out a life in the German hill country to the south of Austin. These were brethren folk, religious and all but for all their pious airs during the day, they sure knew enough to put the talleywacker to good use at night. Every one of their wagons was creaking every night on the ride down.

We rode into the Dallas outskirts at dusk and I took a room planning on riding home the next day. It felt real good being back on home ground after being on the trail and back for several weeks. I'd made sure to send wires to keep Samantha and Penelope appraised of my progress and I still had those two bottles of 'Cog Nack' to share with the bride when we got to being intimate again......

The boardwalk in town outside Kitty Lu's didn't entertain much foot traffic in the heat of the day. A few storekeepers were tending to buckboards hitched up on the rail down the street and a handful of 'pokes were hanging out down at the livery. I had decided to stop in town before going out to the ranch and make a visit to Kitty Lu's place. It had been a good while since I dragged a spur across her floor.

"Whiskey, no rot gut." I said to the boy tending bar in the front room. I had never seen him before.

He poured me two fingers of Kentucky whiskey in a tumbler that had seen better days as I surveyed the scene. A couple whores were sitting in the back room making sure to catch my eye with flashes of bare leg damn near to the cunt. I leaned over the bar to whisper to the boy.

"I done heard that pretty little school ma'am likes to visit the ladies sipping room on occasion, you know, the one with those damn fine mammary?" I inquired of him as a 'poke looking for a fine toss in an upstairs room.

He looked at the whores who were smiling and chatting and turned back to me.

"I haven't seen the miss in here for some time and when she was I don't think she was running herself upstairs for no cowboy. I might be wrong though, never can tell. Now that other gal with the big hair like her? Jesus Pete's a fire." He just grinned.

"Who's that?" I asked with growing curiosity.

"I don't know her name. I just know some of the fellows sure do like it when she stops in for a shot. A couple of the big shots had her upstairs next door a few times from what I've heard. Can't blame 'em. I'd hump that till Sunday given a chance"

"Seen her lately?" I asked.

"Hell yeah, she was just in here noontime. Had a shot and went off with some cowboy somewhere. Anyways, mister, I know that little Clara over there, the one in the fancy blue, she'll give it damn good if you're a mind. Nice little cunt on her and she won't break you too much for your trail money."

The little shit was trying to peddle a whore and I made him no mind. The whiskey went down smooth and I pointed my boots past the saloon doors. And no sooner than I had passed a storefront down the boardwalk I felt her arm crook into mine.

"Hey, Big Daddy, you had any eats yet? If not, why don't you buy me something over at the Palace over there." She said with an intoxicating smile.

I'd been fighting that smile since I first started romancing her sister and kept myself on guard ever since. After my chat in the saloon I was having mixed feelings and maybe just a bit of guilt over thinking the girl was whoring herself.

"Why Miss Penelope, I'd be obliged to do nothing better. What do you say to have one of Cookie's sourdough ham sandwiches?"

We crossed the street and I don't know why but I had one of those uneasy feelings. It was just one of those things and I usually trusted my gut feel. It came in handy when out on the trail. We settled into a table not far from the door where I could watch the goings on in the street.

"You know, I'd love to go to Kansas City sometime. I heard they have real crystal and china on fancy linens in all the restaurants and real Chinamen that wait on you hand and foot." She had a sparkle in her eye on mine and I thought I detected a glint of lust purveying behind the facade of Fort Worth's innocent school ma'am. It might have just been my own roving mind though.

"They do indeed, young lady, the finest china I ever seen and steaks three inches thick slathered with sticks of butter and savory sauces. I didn't see any Chinamen but I had me a chamber full of fine handsome back east ladies at my every beck and call."

Penelope burst into a giggle and made one of her 'stop that' faces as our sandwiches arrived with Cookie's root beer. I have to say as much as I have maintained my man of the house mannerisms around her I've always enjoyed our banter back and forth. We chatted up about her school kids and when we were done I broke the news to her about Bert and Wilbur. She took it better than I thought and then surprised me.

"You didn't kill them did you, Nathaniel?" she asked with a serious look on her face.

"Of course not. Why would you think I did?"

She looked away and returned with a sad smile.

"Oh I didn't really think so. I know they made you so mad at times, that's all." She explained half-heartedly.

I didn't have time to linger on her reply. The movement out the corner of my eye captured my attention. The two figures were moving down the end of the alley between Kitty Lu's and the rooming house next door and had me riveted. I couldn't recognize the fellow and they were soon followed by another before the three of them disappeared up the stairwell door leading to the rooms above the storefront.

Leading the men upstairs was a big haired gal, dark flowing tresses of almost black hair with full breasts and a certain sway to her walk. I couldn't recognize her face from where I was but I knew that walk. Looking over at Penelope I knew then what the kid at the bar meant by 'big hair' like the pretty little school ma'am.

"I gotta go." I said as I rushed up and threw a few bits on the table.

"But Nathaniel" was all she got out before I was out the door and standing on the boardwalk in the hot sun of that early afternoon staring across the street. My mind toyed with the sidearm on my hip as fingers stumbled in the vest pocket looking for that half smoked cigar butt saved for a fretful moment like this.

I lit it and took a long tug and contemplated. This is a place where justice is framed with righteous anger. There are things the law leaves to the consciences of wronged men. A man could call out another in the street and settle matters with hot lead. The same man could find the commissioning of a wrong and dispatch a righteous settlement on the spot.

The draw of the spur across the wooden plank as I stepped off seemed unusually loud as if to announce its mission to every miscreant on each corner. Truth is it was only noticeable to the insect pummeled by its path. A small cloud of Kentucky smoke drifted off behind me and as I approached the stairwell door the stub fell to the gravel below.

I stared up at the steps counting each one, thirteen. How fucking odd the thirteen steps of a gallows could be replicated in the stairwell landing of a whore's boudoir. God has a macabre sense of humor it seems.

Each step was less than silent with the creaking boards giving rise to my arrival. That wouldn't matter; another whore and another peckerwood to diddle in the room next door. I drew the Colt .44 long barrel sidearm up out of its holster and stood before the only closed door along the hallway.

I could hear them; soft laughter, grunting fucks, carnal lust wafting to the ceiling and then a cry, something out of place, a woman with a cry of pain or angst or maybe even pleasure I couldn't tell. It was now or never.

The cobbler had done a fine job nailing the leather bottom and hardwood heel to my boot. It kicked the door wide open and my eyes fell onto the debauchery before me. The cowboy behind her had her naked ass raised up in the air with his cock buried deep inside while the cowboy laying back on the bed held a fist full of hair as his cock did sodomy on her mouth. Balls slapping into her ass cheeks and her grunts of pleasure filled the air for an instant until recognition struck. I didn't need to see any more.

The bead of the revolver aimed dead on the ass end cowboy's chest and the loud retort announced a chunk of lead that blew the fucking animal right onto his back. The second one made sure he stayed that way. Before I could turn to the other man, he had grabbed his clothes and leapt out of the window onto the overhang, buck naked as the day he was born right onto the street below.

Jim Babb ran from a vengeful man with the whites of his eyes guiding every step in broad daylight. I'd deal with him later. I had a whore to deal with at the moment.

Samantha Crosby clutched at the cheap linen sheet in surprised modesty as I seized her by the hair and pulled her off the mattress. There was no way she could mistake the steel in my eyes for anything but her own dismal future.

"Please don't kill me, Nathaniel... please."

She was crying now in full knowledge of her public revelation. A small crowd had gathered outside on the street surveying the damaged window and broken tie up rail.