“I’ve had some practice before I moved upstairs and let the young girls have their turn. But I do like to keep active with men like you.”
“That’s all to my good fortune,” he grunted, closing his eyes and letting Nelly work her magic on his big root. Longarm’s hips began to move as both he and Nelly became more excited. Finally, when his body began to tingle right down to his toes, Longarm quivered and groaned, “oh, Nelly!”
She understood and raised her head. With a laugh, she carefully climbed up and mounted him, her knees lightly hugging his bandaged sides, her big powerful bottom settling over Longarm’s now-glistening and swollen shaft.
“Oh,” she breathed, “you feel good!”
“I’m not going to be too active down here,” he warned.
“You don’t have to do a thing, handsome,” she said, throwing her head back and beginning to work her bottom around and around. “All you have to do is stay long and hard until I’m all finished.”
“That won’t be easy.” Longarm pulled her closer so he could suck on her big, hanging breasts. “Nelly, it won’t be easy at all.”
“You’re up to it, Marshal. I can tell already that you’re up to the mark.”
Longarm’s tongue worked her nipples while her bottom worked the “little man” until they were both grunting and moaning. When Longarm felt Nelly’s body begin to jerk and she threw her head back and gasped, he knew it was time to finish. Reaching around and clasping her powerful buttocks, Longarm jammed his root deep and filled her with his seed, slamming so hard into her bottom that Nelly fell forward and clung to him until he was all finished.
“Wow!” she finally said, rolling over and panting for breath. “You are some kind of man.”
“And you’re some kind of woman,” he said, forcing himself to roll off the bed and then pull up his pants and button them as well as his shirt, which was now badly wrinkled.
When he had strapped on his six-gun, Nelly said, “I’m damned sorry to see you go. I can only imagine how good you are to a woman when you’re not all shot to hell.”
“Thanks.”
Nelly gazed at Longarm as he checked his six-gun. “I sure wish you would just get back in that medicine wagon and drive out of Lone Pine. But you’re not going to do that, are you?”
“No,” he admitted, “I can’t. You see, Nelly, I’m a federal marshal.”
“Sure, but you’re also a man who enjoys taking his next breath, then his next.”
Their lovemaking had left Longarm a little weak in the knees. He limped over to a little bar and uncorked a bottle of brandy. “Mind if I have a going-away taste?”
“Have all you want. Take that bottle.”
Longarm took a half-dozen long gulps. It was mighty good stuff and it kindled a small and welcome fire in his belly. Satisfied, he jammed a cigar into his mouth, found his hat, and grinned at Nelly. “We may meet again.”
“Nothing would please me more,” she said, stretching like a big cat. “I get to Denver every couple Of years.”
“Then be sure and look me up. My office is in the Federal Building right near the Denver Mint.”
“I know the place. Good luck, Marshal. If you spend any more time in Lone Pine, you’re going to need it.”
At the door, Longarm turned and said, “Nelly, do you know the names of the men that ambushed me and killed that young deputy?”
“No,“she said. “I have my suspicions, but I can’t and won’t give you any names.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “because when I find Ford Oakley, I’ll find the men that did it.”
“You will,” she agreed, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, “you certainly will.”
“Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,” he said, reaching for the doorknob.
“Maybe not,” Nelly said, “but don’t tell a soul.”
Longarm stepped outside into an empty hall and closed the door softly behind him. He limped to the back upstairs door, and it was unlocked. When he opened the door to the alley, there were two men who were just finishing loading liquor into the saloon’s storeroom. They were laughing and joking, and Longarm had to wait almost five minutes before they drove away.
Longarm climbed down the stairs, feeling his ribs burn at every step. A few minutes later, he was making his way to the rear entrance of the blacksmith’s shop and hoping that he was not too late and that the ambushers hadn’t already visited Pete and forced him to remove those handcuffs.
“It’s about time you got here!” Pete said angrily as he worked the bellows beside his forge, the fiery coals sparking and glowing reddish orange. “Marshal, what if Oakley and his friends had already come and gone!”
“Then you would have been smart enough to somehow remove his handcuffs and I’d have to figure out some other way to find and capture the man.”
“What took you so long?” Pete asked.
“I got winged three times out in the street and there was a lot of bandaging.”
The blacksmith studied Longarm closely. “I can see the bandages, but I can also see lipstick smeared all over your mouth and some wet love-juice stains on the front of your pants! What were you doing with big Nelly?”
Longarm must have blushed because Pete threw back his head and howled. “You was screwin’ her! Shot to pieces, you were still screwin’that big gal!”
Longarm heaved a deep sigh. “Why don’t we talk about the business of staying alive and my recapturing Ford Oakley, all right?”
“Sonofabitch! You are a real cocksman! And you was telling me to stay away from good-looking women? Hell, you’d probably have screwed yourself dry and died if she hadn’t kicked you out! Ain’t that the gospel truth!”
Longarm grinned. He knew that old Pete wanted him to say yes. “Yes, I guess it is,” he said.
“Ha!” Pete cried, slapping his leather apron and howling with laughter. “What a damned hypocrite!”
Longarm let the man carry on for a few moments. Then he spit into the forge and watched it sizzle. “Pete, where is the best place to hide and get the drop on Ford and his friends when they come to have you remove the handcuffs?”
Pete’s laughter choked down to nothing and he wiped his face with a dirty handkerchief he’d dragged from his back pocket. “Well,” he began, “you could hide up there in the loft and shoot down on ‘em.”
Longarm twisted his head up and surveyed the loft. “Uh-uh,” he said finally. “I want to be down here where I can cut off their escape.”
“You mean where you can escape if things go to hell in a hand-basket,” the blacksmith corrected.
“Maybe so.” Longarm looked all around until he decided on the stall nearest the back door. “Is there a horse in that one?”
“Yep. And I’m about to shoe him.”
“Move him to one of the other stalls,” Longarm ordered. “That’s the one that I want to hide in when I order Ford and his ambushers to surrender.”
“They won’t surrender.”
“They will if I have a shotgun on ‘em. There’s two in the medicine wagon. Will you get them both for me?”
“Sure. I drove that wagon up to the yard and it’s parked right outside. I unhitched the horses and gave ‘em a good feed. Figured they sort of belong to me now and I better protect my own property.”
“If things go wrong,” Longarm said, “that is good thinking.”
Pete removed a sorrel from the stall that Longarm wanted to use for a hiding place. “I think I’ll just take this sorrel outside and put him in a corral. Might be safer. He’s a good horse and his owner is a friend of mine. I’d like to keep him as a friend.”
“That makes sense,” Longarm said. “I expect your friend would not be pleased if his horse got plugged by a stray bullet.”
“You got that right.”
Pete led the sorrel outside saying, “I’ll bring them shotguns along on my way back.”
“Good,” Longarm said.