Karen Mercury (19 page)

Her eyes shining with a naughty twinkle, Fidelia bent and grabbed handfuls of her skirts. She secured them in her waistband, and with her nipples peeking out of her chemise, she did resemble a milkmaid. All they needed was a barn and this would’ve reminded Chess of many a happy time in France—or Germany.

But Fidelia had different, and more tantalizing, ideas in mind. “I want to be fucked by both of you at the same time.”

Chess’s heart nearly stopped. Was she sure she wanted this? “One in your ass?” he presumed.

Fidelia nodded. “Sure. We did that in Stuttgart often. You try, Chess. That way it’s fairer to Spenser, who hasn’t been in my pussy.”

The much-abused butter dish was put to use again. Chess yanked Fidelia’s drawers to the ground, as he wanted a clear view of her wide, white ass as he plowed her. It excited Chess that he’d be able to feel Spenser’s prick as Spenser plowed Fidelia’s pussy, but they’d both have to go slow because this lass wasn’t accustomed to being used like this.

He slid inside her rectum a few inches. Spenser waited too, his cock about three inches in her pussy. She closed her eyes and inhaled tiny ragged breaths, almost as though hiccupping. She lifted one knee and laid her thigh nearly flat against the glass top of the sideboard, shoving aside carafes and glasses. This gave Chess and Spenser better access but could have allowed them to do damage if they’d gotten carried away. She looked like an elegant crane standing on one slipper like that, both men flanking her, holding her up with the strength of their hips.

“Careful,” Chess warned Spenser. Suddenly, he felt Fidelia’s asshole relax around his cock, and tentatively he probed farther. She clutched Spenser’s shoulders, and Spenser fucked her more freely. It was an exquisitely blissful sensation, to feel Spenser’s prick sliding inside Fidelia, just a thin membrane separating their pricks. Chess found if he set up a rhythm just right, their cocks could massage each other, in addition to the powerful clutching of Fidelia’s rectum that squeezed his cock from stem to stern.

“I love being full of you two men,” Fidelia gasped. “Spenser, suck my titties. If you nibble and bite my nipples, I know I can get off. You can feel the power of my orgasm squeeze the seed from your pricks.”

Spenser could only nibble one titty at a time, so Chess assisted by rolling the other nipple between thumb and forefinger. He whispered naughtily in her ear. “You’re a beautiful wench, Fidelia. You are wide and sturdy and can accommodate both of us at the same time. My balls are full and hard against your ass. I can feel Spenser’s penis as he screws your pussy. Your big titty fills my hand. Let me diddle your button like Spenser did. Ah. There.” He felt her quicken and choke on her own gasp when he found her button and rubbed it with his fingertip, as it had looked like Spenser had done.

He really wasn’t proficient at this. Chess was simply a fucker, plain and simple. Other people sucked him off, pleasured him, or allowed him to bind and flog them. He really didn’t know how to give a woman an orgasm. He hoped Fidelia would not notice his ignorance.

But he must’ve been doing something right. Between Spenser’s supping at her nipple and Chess’s diddling of her button, Chess could feel the tension rising in Fidelia’s innards. When she gripped Spenser’s shoulders so tightly she probably drew blood—as she had the first time Spenser had made her come—Chess knew they’d gotten her off. He jabbed and gyrated his cock in her ass until a few strokes of Spenser’s prick against his brought him off, too.

Chess’s brain went absolutely blank when he shot a load. His hips jerked and twitched as he pumped Fidelia’s sweet ass with jism, and he must’ve forgotten to diddle her button. Spenser’s burgeoning penis, too, was spurting the pussy with a delicious load, so Spenser may have forgotten to clamp his teeth around her nipple.

She wailed like a cat whose tail was slammed in a door. “
Ahhh! Du Hundsfott!
Don’t! Stop! Don’t stop!”

Alarmed, Chess obediently returned his twiddling fingertips to her slick, erect clitoris. He was rewarded with the most extreme clamping of his prick. Her rectum seemed to be able to milk every last drop from his prick as she gasped and clutched poor Spenser’s shoulders. It was bliss to feel Spenser’s delicious prick twitching and leaping so close to his.

He leaned forward, took Spenser’s chin in his hand, and kissed him.

He knew Fidelia would like it. She had liked watching Harley and Marshal Tempest smooching on the front steps. And hell,
he
liked it. Fidelia hissed and hiccupped as he toyed with her clitoris. Spenser’s prick throbbed inside her slimy pussy, and the two men sucked on each other’s mouths, biting, licking, nibbling.

Suddenly Fidelia gasped loudly. “
Oh!
”

Chess was so stunned he detached from her rear. Spenser must have withdrawn, too, for the nearly naked lass spun about looking from one man to the other. “Oh no!”

“What is it?” asked Chess. “Ulrich?”

She did look as though she’d seen a ghost. She didn’t even bother stuffing her bouncing breasts back into her chemise. “No.” From the look on her face, it was something even more stunning and frightening than Ulrich. “I just had an orgasm.”

“Yes.” Chess chuckled, full of himself. “I certainly did give you an orgasm.”

Spenser frowned and buttoned his dangling prick away. “
We
gave her an orgasm.”

“Whoever,” said Fidelia with irritation. “That’s not important. What’s important is that I can only get pregnant if I have an orgasm while fucking! Oh, how stupid could I be? It’s all your faults. You got me so carried away. I should have asked Dr. Dunraven for a cervical cap.”

“Or a womb veil,” Chess added knowledgeably. He did know about those things. “But why do you think you can only conceive if you have an orgasm? That isn’t necessary to conceive. Just ask the thousands of hookers who didn’t time it correctly.”

Fidelia stood like a statue next to the sideboard. “But…that is what my mother always told me! And my—I had—a man—”

“Your lover,” Chess soothed her.

“Yes, a lover I had in Wisconsin. He confirmed that.”

Chess asked, “Was he also German? Maybe it’s a German thing.”

“Yes,” Fidelia said uncertainly. “But I wasn’t worried that time we did it in Chang’s because I didn’t orgasm.”

Chess wanted to change the subject. Already he could see Spenser’s chest puffing with pride that he’d given her an orgasm. They were such competitive assholes! However, there was nothing wrong with two men racing to pleasure a woman. “But you believe that this time you
will
conceive because you climaxed just as Spenser shot inside of you? My dove, you must go see Dr. Dunraven immediately. We can’t have you avoiding climaxing just because you want to avoid conceiving.”

“I mean…” Fidelia looked from Chess to Spenser back to Chess, confused. “I mean…
Oh!
” Hands clenched into cunning little fists, she at last dashed from the parlor and down the hallway.

Presumably, she went to the bathroom where she could douche, and Chess yelled at Spenser, “Great. If you just impregnated my fiancée I’m going to have your head on a damned platter.”

Spenser yelled back, “Do you really believe her story about only conceiving during a climax? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got to be more careful. You’re not getting inside her pussy unless you come up with some kind of sheath.”

And in full view of Chess, a cut-glass carafe raised itself from the sideboard and went sailing directly at Spenser’s head.

Bam!
Spenser had no time to duck, and it clunked loudly against his temple.

“Ho!” Chess laughed. “Ulrich doesn’t like that idea, either. Ulrich! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

Spenser held his forehead. “Goddamned singing cowboy! I’m telling you, Chess, we’ve got to run in Bullet Bob or this yodeler is going to kill one of us. You heard what Zeke said. Once he’s satisfied that his murderer is caught, he can move onto a more advanced plane.”

“I kind of like the spunky fellow,” said Chess. “Ulrich! Sing to us. Tell us where you’re buried!”

Both men jumped when Ulrich’s image appeared outside the front parlor window, where they had watched Neil and Harley necking. His expression, as usual, was chipper and optimistic, and today his hands even moved on the guitar as he strummed.

Chess Hudson finds his greatest joy

When Spenser’s on his knees

But you will find my poor dead shell

By looking at Bob’s trees

“Heh heh!” Chess chuckled. “He’s quite the wit, isn’t he?”

“There’s that thing about Bullet Bob’s trees again.” Spenser went to the window and opened it. “Come on in, Ulrich. Can you give us more advice about Bullet Bob’s trees?”

Ulrich didn’t need to climb through the window. He merely floated forward
through
the window sash, and soon his entire body was in the parlor. He burst into another cheerful stanza, although his left hand seemed to know only two chords.

You three will have a happy life naming a house after me

You’ll never want for little babes after you marry Fi

“Fi!” Spenser called out happily. “That’s a very nice nickname. Ulrich, tell us. What is Bullet Bob’s next move? What should we be on the lookout for?”

Ulrich’s smiling face seemed stuck, or frozen, for a few moments. Maybe he was thinking of what to sing, coming up with a good rhyme. He finally jerked free from his frozen position.

Marriage to the bonny Fi will cure all your ills

But don’t let Robert dose her with Doctor Rush’s pills

“Who in hell is Dr. Rush?” asked Spenser. “Dr. Dunraven might know who that is.”

“Never heard of him. All we have to do is avoid Bullet Bob dosing Fidelia with anything, basically. Ulrich, who is Dr. Rush?”

Ulrich screwed his face up and it actually reddened, as though he prepared to wail the most heartbreaking lament. And wail he did. But it had nothing to do with Dr. Rush or Fidelia.

From this valley they say you are going.

We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile,

For they say you are taking the sunshine

That has brightened our pathway a while.

“Who’s going, Ulrich?” asked Chess. “Who is taking the sunshine?”

“I think he just likes singing that song,” suggested Spenser.

So come sit by my side if you love me

Do not hasten to bid me adieu

Just remember the Red River Valley,

And the one that has loved you so true.

As he howled out “true…” he waved the guitar as though it were made of air—which it probably was—and began his now-customary float up through the ceiling. Fidelia came racing down the hallway when only Ulrich’s boots could be seen.

“
Mein Gott!
” she cursed. “I missed him!”

Chess wrapped an arm around Fidelia. Ulrich’s boots kicked, as though he was having trouble getting through the ceiling. Finally, with a few little convulsions and shudders, he was gone.

Spenser posed as Hercules.

They waited for Bullet Bob to make a move. Fidelia posed beautifully as Eve. She was much shapelier than Josephine had been, so she needed to carefully drape her fleshing sheet in strategic positions. Chess was not happy that when she raised her arm that held the apple, nearly the whole outer slope of her breast could be viewed under her arm, but even he was convinced Fidelia would be Bullet Bob’s next target, as she was Chess’s center of the universe.

The Morning Star Gallery was packed like a sardine tin tonight, perhaps after the brouhaha of last night. Many men had a morbid fascination with ogling the spot where a woman had died, Spenser knew.

This crowd, not being the regular Morning Star crowd, was not careful to be so hushed. They nearly brawled and ogled as loudly as the Bucket of Blood crowd. Although Sackett had been instructed not to serve Bullet Bob any absinthe, Bob was as rowdy and boisterous as ever. Chess and Zeke sat with Bullet Bob, who had suddenly gathered a new group of roostered cronies. Spenser half hoped one of these gentlemen would become the new Zeus of Bullet Bob’s eye, but if Bullet Bob found a new idol, they may never find out what had happened to Ulrich. At least if Chang found Josephine had died of cantharides poisoning they could arrest Bullet Bob for that, but that would not compensate for Ulrich’s death.

“
Mein Gott
,” said Fidelia from the corner of her mouth. “That man sitting next to Chess? I’ve seen him in here before.”

“Yes,” Spenser answered, trying not to move his jaw. “I think that’s Simon Hudson, his father.”

“
Mein Gott
,” Fidelia repeated woodenly. “That’s my future father-in-law, and I’m standing here practically naked.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Spenser said honestly. Not many men probably
would
mind.

Spenser wanted to string up Bullet Bob, to throw him a necktie party, so Spenser could get back to a normal life. Chess wanted his help out at Serendipity Ranch—or Ulrich Ranch, as Ulrich had demanded they call it. Neil Tempest would leave behind many capable hands to assist Chess, but earlier Chess had told Spenser he wanted his expertise at his new ranch.