She felt the swelling beneath his britches, pulled away, and panted, "Hurry! Let's go into the grove! I want you right now, this minute!"
Taking him by the hand, she pulled him into the shelter of the brush. They'd taken only a few steps into the screening growth when she stopped and began fumbling with the buttons of her riding habit. The thought flashed through Longarm's mind that this was going to be clumsy and uncomfortable, but the woman had other ideas. She let the skirt fall, slid her drawers down to follow the skirt, and went to her knees on the soft, cushioning grass.
"From behind!" she urged. "Like a horse mounts a mare! Be my stud! Now, right now!"
She dropped to her elbows. Her inviting, round, white buttocks gave speed to Longarm's fingers as he worked the buttons of his fly free and knelt behind her. He penetrated deeply, to his full length, withdrew until he almost lost her, then slammed fiercely to her again. The novelty of the situation was almost as exciting to him as it seemed to be to the woman. He thrust lustily, ramming hard, not trying to tease her or hold back. She whimpered deep in her throat, a sound like the whinnying of the mare she was pretending to be. The whimpers became moans and the moans changed to groans of pleasure. Longarm grasped her with a hand on each side of her hips, callused fingers digging into soft flesh. Her buttocks writhed against him as he drove fiercely into her, stroke following quick, full stroke. Then, in a sudden, gasping crescendo of quick, sharp cries, he felt her body sag and grow limp. Longarm held her up as he pounded home the few thrusts he needed, and pulled her firmly against him until his own climax pulsed and passed.
He lowered her gently to the turf. She lay on her side for a moment, ribs heaving. When she rolled over on her back to look up at him, kneeling there by her, she saw his frock coat gaping open to show the holstered Colt above his left hip.
"That's the first time I've been made love to by a man wearing a pistol and a long coat," she grinned. "But I loved it!"
"Me, too," he agreed. "Maybe it was a mite hasty, but it was sure fine."
"Damn it, I couldn't wait. The minute I felt your hands touching me when you helped me dismount, I started itching for you."
"We won't be in a hurry, next time," he promised. "You get out of that tangle of clothes you're in. I'll go get my bedroll, and we can stretch out and be comfortable together."
When he'd tethered the horses and returned with the bedroll, Longarm found Mrs. Stanley standing a little deeper in the shelter of the trees, in a clearing where a spring bubbled gently to form a small, grass-edged pool. Except for her boots, the lieutenant's wife was naked. Her clothes were hung neatly over the bottom branch of a spreading pinoak.
"I couldn't get my boots off," she told him. "You'll have to help me."
"I'll be pleased to help you do just about anything, ma'am."
"Start out by calling me anything but 'ma'am,' then."
"I damn sure ain't going to call you Miz Stanley, not now. But that's all of your name I know."
"It is, isn't it? My name's Cynthia. My best friends call me Cyn, which tells you something about me, I suppose."
"Unless I disremember, I told you my name when you was giving me hell back at the corral."
"Yes. Custis. Custis Long," she sighed happily. "And I'll admit, you're long where it counts the most."
They spread the bedroll and Cynthia sat down while Longarm yanked off her boots. He hung his coat and vest on the pinoak beside Cynthia's garments, and deposited his holstered pistol within easy reach, at the edge of the spread blankets. Then he worked his own stovepipe boots free and sat beside her. She offered her lips, and when the first clinging kiss exhausted their breath, Longarm began moving his mouth and tongue across her shoulders and down to her full, upthrust breasts, seeking the dark puckering aureoles that were thrusting up at him. She stopped him with a hand under his chin.
"Not fair, Custis. You've still got most of your clothes on. Here, I'll help you undress. That'll be part of my pleasure."
His undressing was prolonged, interrupted by kisses that started as soon as Cynthia had helped him shed his shirt and pulled down the top of his longjohns. At once she sank her teeth like a cannibal into his shoulder, biting almost hard enough to draw blood. Longarm's callused hands caressed her breasts roughly. She began to moan again. Cynthia fumbled loose the strained buttons of his fly to release the erection she'd been helping along by passing a squeezing hand along its swelling length. He kicked off his longjohns and britches and rolled on top of her. She spread herself to receive him, legs raised high, hips rolling and rising to meet his slow, deliberate thrusting. Longarm was not hurrying now, but prolonging the sensation. Twice when he felt her nearing climax he slowed to a stop, plunging full into her hot, wet depth, holding her tightly and pushing hard, but without motion. Each time after her breathing eased and her moans slackened to silence he began thrusting again, controlling himself, until the third time she began to cry and quiver. He knew she was ready now, and speeded his tempo, bringing her up with him until they exploded together in the long, dazed bursting of ultimate sensation that left them both limp and motionless.
After they'd begun to breathe normally, she whispered, "If you think I'm a shameless bitch, you're right, Custis. But not with everybody. It takes a certain kind of man to bring out the bitchiness in me, and you're that kind."
"Can't say I'm sorry, Cyn. You're some armful of woman. But I reckon you know that."
"I like for you to tell me." Her hand, exploring his chest, hesitated and stopped at a puckered scar. She sat up, looked, and said with a gasp of surprise, "My God! What kind of life do you lead?"
"About a normal one, for a man in my line of work. But we don't need to talk about them souvenirs. Let's just lay back and rest awhile. We've got plenty of time."
Cuddled together, they grew warm and dozed, sprawling languidly as the shade from the towering trees that surrounded the clearing and hid them crept across the grass.
Cynthia awoke first. Longarm became aware of hands moving warmly over his skin, exploring his body, of the moist tip of her tongue tracing his eyelids and ears and trailing along his cheek, before it slid into his mouth. Her busy hands had already brought him to a half-erection before he was awake, and when he became aware of her soft stroking the erection peaked. He rolled to face her, his movement pinning one of her legs under him. She brought the other leg high up on his ribs and guided him into her, squirming with sensuous pleasure as he entered slowly and went deep deliberately. When he began to move his hips, she clamped her legs tightly around him to stop him from moving.
"No," Cynthia said. "Not for a while yet. I just want to feel you in me — all of you. Just to hold you here without moving, while you kiss and fondle me."
"I always try to oblige a lady."
"You still think I'm a lady, Custis?"
"Sure. Only you're a woman, too. Ain't often you'll find both of 'em together."
He lay still as she'd requested, except for the movements of his hands over her breasts and belly and along her hips and down them, to knead and squeeze her soft cheeks. The caresses she gave him in return, long deep kisses, sharp nips on shoulders and chest, had their effect. Longarm could feel himself building to a tremendous orgasm. He moved his hips experimentally, questioningly. She relaxed the grip of her thighs enough to let him make a few short beginning thrusts. He moved to rise on top of her, but she pushed her hand against his chest.