Chapter 9: The Money Shot
Susan Holbarth lay on her side naked on the crude feather bed next to Green. Her
work-hardened palms played over his hard-muscled chest tanned to a chestnut
brown. She stroked the rock hard abs with the tips of her fingers down to the
tuff of wiry hair at the base of his semi-erect cock.
She had never been fucked by a man who had made her cum so hard, and not just
once but three times in the space of two hours. Her late husband, Jim, had made
her cum occasionally -- but mostly through her own efforts and imaginings rather
than through any effort on his part. He had been a good provider, a decent man,
as far as things went -- however, a lousy lover. But there was nothing lousy
about the way Green had fucked her. He had taken her like a savage, holding
nothing back. He had been hard and brutal, demanding, bringing the animal in her
out, a side she hadn't known existed. It had been wild and exciting, terrifying.
She had cumed like crazy. She studied his face. It held a lethal, unknown
quality. He was dangerous. She sensed that immediately when she first laid eyes
on him. But for a woman like herself that was exciting. Most men were dullards.
And that was all right, she guessed. They had to be to get the ordinary,
day-by-day affairs of living solved, but it was nice that there were still men
about who could makes a woman's blood boil, who could fulfill her secret
longings -- even if only for a moment. And that's all it could be, for a man
like Green could never be claimed by any one woman. It would be like putting a
wild animal in a cage. You would destroy it. She was certain that he belonged to
no one and nothing. And never would. A lone wolf -- and they never hang around
long . . . .
"After round-up Loomis always treats his men to some entertainment," Susan said
quietly, stroking Green's chest.
"He has some whores brought in from Sackville. There's always a wagon and armed
guards. The wagon's used to load up all the hungover cowboys the next morning
and bring them back to the ranch. They go by the stage road. Loomis stays at the
ranch with a skeleton crew and has his special whores brought in. That's when
he's most alone and vulnerable, but, even so, he always has at least a dozen men
hanging around for protection. It'll be next to impossible to get close to him .
. . ." Susan droned on, but Green only half listened. Green lay on his back
staring at the ceiling listening as much for the soft sound of her voice as for
what she was saying.
Then his mind slipped back in time.
His father was lining up tin cans on a fence rail forty feet off . . . .
"Remember, son, always shoot from the hip. Takes too long to sight down the
barrel. Instinct is always a surer shot. Point with the barrel as if it were
your finger and aim with your eyes. Look directly at what you intend to shoot
and the barrel of your gun will automatically follow."
He handed the boy the light .22 revolver.
"OK. See if you can hit the first can on the right."
The small boy took a deep breath and held it. Looked hard at the can his father
had indicated. He brought the gun to bear without glancing at it and fired.
The sharp crack of the pistol echoed over the countryside, but nothing happened.
The can remained sitting on the fence rail undisturbed.
A crow complained from a nearby tree and took flight, cawing until it became a
tiny dot in the distance and disappeared.
What had gone wrong? He had done just like his father had told him, but he had
missed. Three weeks and he still couldn't hit anything -- except occasionally by
luck. He was beginning to think he was a failure.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Try again," his father said, in that calm voice
he always used. He had never heard his father raise his voice in anger.
He tried again and missed.
He tried again for half an hour with little result. His small shoulders slumped
in defeat.
"Don't let it get you down, son. Nothing worthwhile comes easily."
"But I'll bet it didn't take you this long to learn," the boy said, on the verge
of tears, feeling worthless.
"Took him lots longer," a voice said from behind. "Course he wasn't the pick of
the the litter either."
The voice of the stranger belonged, Johnny learned shortly, to his Uncle Henry
who had come to visit from up north and see his nephew whom he had not met
before.
The father grinned slyly.
He took his forty-five out and suddenly in a loud burst of fire all the cans on
the fence rail sailed off into the tall meadow grass beyond. It happened in an
instant, faster than the eye could follow, and the ears heard only the sound of
one shot that had been six.
They walked back to their house, farther up the meadow, where his mother was
waiting with supper.
Later that evening the boy asked his Uncle Henry if he could shoot like that
too.
"Shit, can't nobody shoot like that but your daddy."
* * *
Susan put her hand around the base of his softened cock and massaged it slowly
up and down. She bent over and nibbled the foreskin between her lips, pulling
gently, easing it down over the head. She took more of the cock in her mouth,
pulling, stretching it, pausing to relax the tension. She could feel the cock
becoming hard again, feel the inner core stiffen while the silky, outer layer of
skin moved over it.
Soon she would have his hard cock in her again. The thought made her heart beat
quicker, her breathing more shallow, more labored.
As his cock swelled into an erection, she gripped the base of it in her hand
holding the head in her mouth tightly and began bobbing up and down, slow at
first then faster. Saliva flowed from the corners of her mouth down the length
of his cock. She took increasingly more of it into her mouth, jacking at the
base of it until it was fully hard. Straddling him she placed the wet head of
his cock at the entrance of her cunt and pushed downward.
She was fully aroused and wet. The thick shaft of his cock slid into her easily.
She took half of it and paused as a sudden climax shook her. Her body dropped,
his cock fully impaling her as she writhed helplessly on top of him. As soon as
the first climax was over another even more powerful one built within her. She
gasped out loud and slapped the palms of her hands against his chest, crying out
and moaning. She thought she would die, the sensations were overpowering.
His hands slapped against her asscheeks, his fingers dug into the soft, smooth
skin, gripping her to him, holding her cunt down on the thick base of his cock,
his testicles like two large stones between her thighs.
One of his hands moved up the arched curve of her back and grabbed her by the
nape of the neck and forced her head down until her mouth was joined to his in a
hot, wet kiss. She came a second time as his tongue slid into her mouth. His
hand wrung a handful of hair and wrought her head from side to side as he ground
his mouth against hers, reaming his tongue into her mouth, and ramming his cock
into her cunt, as if he wanted to penetrate not only her body but her very soul.
Her body shook uncontrollably as a series of quick climaxes coursed through her.
She was powerless to move or think. She had become only sensation without will
-- a leaf swirling down a stream.
He rolled her over suddenly onto her back, while he remained in her, and assumed
the top position. Like someone crazed he worked his cock in and out of her
rapidly, his hard belly smacking against the firm softness of hers. Her tits
jiggled with the force of his thrusts, her body limp, her head lolling, her eyes
wide, unseeing, as another overwhelming cum shook her.
She saw his hard-muscled body tense, his back arch, his face grimace; his
clenched teeth were almost phosphorous in the gloom of the cabin. He pulled out
of her with an audible sucking sound and grabbed his cock whacking it back and
forth until spurts of milky cum shot out onto her belly, her tits and her face.
Breathing heavily, beads of sweat on his tanned forehead, he squeezed out the
last drops on her cunt hairs where they lay like bubbles of pearl. Moving from
between her legs, he turned her over onto her belly and spread her legs again.
He positioned himself back between her thighs. She knew what he intended to do.
No man had ever taken her that way before. She was sure it would hurt, but she
didn't care. She was so aroused that even the thought of pain became exciting.
She tensed as the wet head of his cock touched the taut, rubbery hole of her
ass. She felt it press, felt the extension of the sphincter muscle, felt the
entering slide of his large cock, felt the swollen head as it spread her wider
and wider.
The pain cut into her like a knife but, after a moment, dissipated into warm,
radiant sensations of pleasure that tingled and spread throughout her body. The
warm palm of his hand slid under her belly and moved down to her cunt. While his
cock moved slowly in and out of her ass, his hand stroked the flue of her cunt,
his first two fingers sinking deeply into the hole, moving up to tweak her
engorged clit.
The sensation of his hand working her cunt while his cock plumbed the depths of
her ass was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Her whole being reeled
within vibrant flesh consumed with delicious waves of unrelenting ecstasy. She
beat her hands against the feather mattress, her wet mouth gave muffled sighs
against the pillow, her teeth bit into her full lower lip.
He moved faster and harder, his hard belly slapping against the firm, round
cheeks of her ass. Her whole body jerked forward rapidly with each powerful
thrust,sinking back as he withdrew from her, like a piston over and over again.
The sheet became wet beneath her jiggling flesh.
Suddenly, he was cuming -- the hard and fast beat of flesh against flesh. With a
cry sounding almost like anguish, he collapsed on top of her.
They lay still for a long time, their wet mouths almost touching, their breath
hot and quick.
