As he rolled off her to roll her over, she asked what he thought he was doing, even though she didn't really resist as he proceeded to do it, saying, "I've been thinking of the other wildwomen up Wyoming way and how some other long-donging brute might be leading them down the primrose path. I mean, you're a woman, Lord love you, and would you just grab a gun and traipse over to the county sheriff's to get deputized and light out after any outlaw without even changing to a sensible riding habit?"
Portia raised her still girlish rump as she grasped the full intent of his hands on her hip bones and his questing shaft parting her moist pubic hair, observing, "You said all those distaff volunteers were deputized to track down men who'd wronged them or someone in their own families. You're not going to try and put it in the wrong hole, are you, dear?"
He said, "Not unless you ask, polite. Billy and me don't find it logical to deputize inexperienced young ladies to send poking after wanted men."
She said, "Oooh, I want that man right where you're shoving him! But why are we talking about poking anywhere else?"
He got it all the way in and began to play her pussy like a trombone in three-quarter time as he demanded, "What makes them gals such good trackers? I mean, sure, anybody can see how a gal might want to go after the man who gunned her dear old uncle. I was there. So I can tell you how easy it is for a gal wearing skirts and a girlish smile to get the drop on a man who'd been running from other men. But then she told me and Billy Vail she'd tracked Rusty Mansfield all the way to the Tremont House in Denver and from there to his favorite saloon. How in blue blazes do you figure she did that without no help from an experienced manhunter?"
Portia moaned, "Oh, Lord, I know I could sure use more help from an experienced manhunter they call Longarm! I have no idea how some silly cowgirl or schoolmarm might go about tracking down a wanted man. I want you! All of you! For I told you the last time you abused me this way that your arm isn't the only thing about you that seems to be unusually long!"
He laughed and pounded her to glory with his bare feet braced on the rug beside the bed, then hauled back on her angular hip bones to hold her firm buttocks against him as he tried to sort of wipe her ass with his belly hairs while she reached back to fondle his puckered balls until he was suddenly draining them inside her. She called him a bastard for not waiting for her when she felt his discharge seeping out over her turgid clit. Then she was calling him nicer things as they lay sideways with him still spooned inside her while he strummed her love-slicked banjo from behind with his skilled right hand in her lap, murmuring in her ear, "One of them Wyoming wildwomen might have gone this far with an outlaw before she shot him point-blank in a Santa Fe posada. That report allows they reported him taken dead in his long underwear. The Mex posadero who hired them both the room was unable to give further details."
Portia arched her spine to swallow another half inch or so of his semi-flaccid shaft as she murmured, "Ooh, don't stop and don't do it any faster. That feels just lovely and I want it to last forever. I'd have to come and cool off quite a bit before I shot you, right now, if you were a wanted man and I was after you with a dead-or-alive warrant from some silly Wyoming J.P."
He kissed her behind one ear and went on pleasuring her as he replied, "I know I'd deserve it, taking up with a strange gal when I knew I was wanted dead or alive and then not keeping an eye on her. But how do you reckon you tracked me all this way from Wyoming, you sentimental little deputy gal?"
The lady lawyer giggled and said, "I'd be a big fibber if I told you I've never had a man pet me so sweetly down there. But I must say I'm not used to speculating on law enforcement, or the lack of the same, at times such as this! You really do value my opinions as a lawyer as well as my weakness as a woman, don't you?"
He nibbled her earlobe, her well-kept hair smelled she-male as hell, then assured her, "I cannot tell a lie. I mostly wanted you the way I'm holding you right now. But I told you over to your office I needed a natural woman with a law degree, remember?"
She murmured, "I remember, and I'm so glad, right now, that is. I know I'm going to hate myself in the morning. But you did say you'd be on your way to Wyoming's Cow Country by then and... Could we do this right some more, Custis? I can always play with that thing myself."
He said they sure could, and they sure did, with two pillows under her shapely but sort of lean hips as she locked her ankles around the nape of his neck and warned him she'd never forgive him if he ever stopped.
Of course, there came a time when he had to, because he couldn't come any more. So whether she forgave him or not, Portia seemed as willing to share a three-for-a-nickel cheroot and let her throbbing flesh cool off a spell as they cuddled atop the covers in the lamplight spilling in from the front room.
Longarm blew a thoughtful smoke ring at the open doorway before he asked her how she'd go about defending someone such as Deputy Ida Weaver when, not if, she got her fool self arrested by shooting the wrong man in cold blood.
Portia absently replied, "I think I'm jealous. Why do you and all those other lawmen care about a girl with a gun and a mind of her own treating killers the same way the rest of you like to?"
Longarm grimaced and said, "Nobody with a lick of sense likes to gun another human being. We generally give them a change to surrender, and then we get to gun 'em. To begin with, it ain't always clear a man is guilty as charged before he's stood trial before a judge and jury. That's why them dead-or-alive warrants on men who ain't been indicted have so many cautious thinkers worried. I say when, not if, because as sure as you're concave where I'm convex, a Wyoming wildwoman suffering delusions of deputization is sure to blow away some innocent cuss, and then where will we be?"
Portia replied without hesitation, "She'll be in a whole lot of trouble! But, since you asked, I think I'd plead her not guilty by reason of orders from higher authority. You did say she was able to show you a valid arrest warrant, or at least a writ that read like a valid arrest warrant, didn't you?"
Longarm said, "I did. Billy Vail says the one we saw might stand up in court as long as the cuss she served it on was guilty. Rusty Mansfield would have had grounds for damages against little Ida, her undersheriff, that J.P., and Keller's Crossing if he'd live to prove he was innocent! Your turn."
Portia took a deep drag on the cheroot, handed it back to him, and let fly some smoke signals a Kiowa might have bragged on before she decided, "Try it this way. An out-of-the-way Wyoming county might save a lot on courtroom expenses if they recruited unpaid volunteers to simply smile pretty at no-goods and mow them down. What did they call that bunch of young gun waddies Uncle John Chisum and his trading partner, McSween, swore in as unrecognized but efficient lawmen back in seventy-eight?"
"Regulators," Longarm replied, adding, "They didn't work out all that efficient. Both factions in the Lincoln County War wound up flat busted, and they say Billy the Kid was last seen washing dishes down in Shakespeare near the border. After that, this undersheriff Rita Mae Reynolds ain't stuck with the situation Uncle John was, with the county run by a rival faction and his cows vanishing into thin air. Like I said, less than half the elective positions in the township are held by the menfolk of the womenfolk who seem to have grabbed the rest. But they've other J.P.s and Rita Mae works under a male county sheriff, who's yet seen fit to deputize any ladies to go after anybody charged as a felon by Justice of the Peace Edith Penn Keller of Keller Township."
Portia suddenly laughed and said, "I think this must be what some of my married friends mean when they mention pillow conversations. I'm lying in bed with a naked man, still wet with his passion as I snuggle my naked flesh against his, and I'm talking about small-town politics?"