Slocum and the Glitter Girls at Gravel Gulch (9781101619513) (3 page)

Slocum listened. He heard the pad of bare feet striking the ground.

He smiled.

“The more the merrier,” he said.

Bonnie stiffened and slapped him lightly on the chin.

Then she began to pump up and down with quick moves.

The sound of padding feet grew louder as Renata ran over the ground. She hiked up her flannel nightgown and dashed toward Bonnie and Slocum as if on a mission of mercy.

Bonnie’s eyes flared with starlight. They were wide open and her cheeks glistened with fresh sweat as she shivered with another orgasm.

Slocum steeled himself to hold his seed.

He knew there was more woman to be had, and he didn’t want to spend himself just then and miss the opportunity to pleasure Renata.

Renata rushed up to the two lovers and stared down at them. She huffed because she was slightly short of breath.

“Well,” she said, “you two seem to be enjoying yourselves.”

“Immensely,” Bonnie said.

“You little traitor,” Renata hissed, “sneaking off like that and not waking me up.”

“Want to join us?” Slocum said, a smile flickering on his lips.

“How?” Renata asked as she squatted down next to Slocum’s bedroll.

“You can take turns,” he said.

“When I’m finished,” Bonnie said as she dropped once again on Slocum’s cock.

“When will that be?” Renata asked.

Bonnie didn’t answer, but gasped as still another orgasm rippled through her loins.

Renata pulled her gown up over her head and tossed it
on the ground. She stood naked, and Slocum saw the graceful curves of her body, the taut breasts, the jutting nipples, the dark thatch between her legs. Desire flooded him even as Bonnie fell against him, gasping with the pleasure of her climax.

“Well?” Renata said. “Don’t I get a turn with Mr. Slocum?”

Bonnie rose and looked at her naked friend.

“Oh, I suppose so,” she said. “You’re wicked, Renata.”

“Get off him,” Renata said and moved a step forward.

Bonnie raised her buttocks and unimpaled herself from Slocum’s cock. She rolled off his belly and stood up on shaky legs.

“Make it quick, Renata. I’ll want more. It’s been a long time.”

“For both of us,” Renata said as she squatted, then threw a leg over Slocum’s loins and straddled him. Her hand felt around for his stalk and grabbed it as she lowered her thatched cunt to its throbbing swollen tip.

“I’ve never watched before,” Bonnie said. “Do you mind, John?”

“Not if it gives you pleasure,” he said.

“We’ll see,” Bonnie said.

Renata raised and lowered herself, plunging Slocum’s cock in and out of her steamy cunt. His flesh smacked against hers and Renata’s back arched as she felt the swollen member deep inside her pussy.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” she said, more to herself than Slocum or Bonnie.

“Have you come yet?” Bonnie asked.

“Not yet. But I feel it. I really feel it.”

Slocum thrust upward with his hips and drove deep inside Renata. She shuddered as an electric spasm ripped through her cunt and rippled up her spine. She let out a
soft scream and fell against Slocum, her breasts mashing against his chest.

She wriggled so that her nipples hardened. Slocum clasped each cheek of her buttocks and pumped up and down, holding her tight, diving deeper into her warm wet cunt.

Renata climaxed again and then rolled off the blanket, Slocum’s cock still buried in her pussy.

“I want you on top of me,” she whispered.

The ground mashed into her back and she felt the sting of grit and small pebbles.

Slocum disengaged himself and pulled her onto the blanket.

“No use lying on the ground,” he said.

Renata laughed.

“Thanks,” she said.

She spread her legs wide, and Slocum looked down at her sloping flat tummy and the dark thatch between her legs. He straddled her and lowered himself until the head of his prick touched the soft folds of her cunt. She reached for him and pulled the head inside her. Slocum pushed and lowered his hips at the same time. He slid into her steamy cunt with ease, and her legs rose slightly as he plumbed the depths clear to the tip of her womb.

Bonnie watched the two in rapt fascination. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight.

An electric orgasm rippled through Renata’s body, and she let out a soft scream of pleasure. Slocum increased the speed of his plunge and she climaxed again as Bonnie writhed with desire.

And Obie snored on, deep asleep.

Slocum bent down and kissed Renata’s breasts, laving his tongue over her taut nipples. Her lithe body undulated as he continued to pump into her with slow, sure strokes.
They kissed and she sighed when he raised his head to look at her.

Her body bucked with another jolting orgasm and she clung to his buttocks, holding him tight against her loins.

Bonnie’s heart fluttered, and she stroked a finger along Slocum’s leg as if to draw energy from touching him.

“He’s good, isn’t he, Renata?” Bonnie said.

“He’s more than good. He’s marvelous.”

“I agree,” Bonnie said.

“Let me have it, John,” Renata said. “I want your milk to explode inside me.”

“You might get a baby,” he said.

“I don’t care.”

“You’re the boss,” he said, but he knew she wasn’t. Some women went half-crazy when they were coupled with a man. They lost all reason, all judgment.

“Do it, John,” Bonnie said, excitement in her voice. “Shoot it all into her.”

“You stay out of this,” Renata said.

Slocum increased the speed of his strokes. He felt her pussy rise up and squeeze his cock as Renata contracted the muscles in her vulva. Faster and faster he drove into her as she tightened down on him and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Her hands roamed up to his back and she held on as if she were bulldogging a steer.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she exclaimed as her body convulsed in the spasms of climax.

Slocum felt the seeds rush from his sac and spew through his cock. There was that blinding moment of pure ecstasy as he shot sperm into her cunt, splashing her womb with millions of tiny swimmers. He floated above her for a long moment, and she clung to him as her body quivered against him. He fell atop her, covering her body with his and mashing her breasts.

Bonnie looked at their faces and knew that they had gone mindless in the throes of their shared ecstasy.

She let out a breath and gulped in air to replace it.

“I bet that was nice, Renata,” Bonnie said, and it sounded snide to Renata.

But she was on another plane and didn’t mind. She felt the warmth of Slocum’s seed and that was enough to numb her senses into a state of lassitude.

“Finished, John?” Bonnie asked.

“Yes, for a time. You and Renata better get some sleep and I’m plumb tuckered out.”

“I want more,” Bonnie said.

Slocum slid off Renata and stood up. He pointed to his crotch.

“He’s plumb tuckered out, too, Bonnie. Get some sleep.”

Bonnie rose up and stood.

“Well, I never…” she said.

“Oh, Bonnie,” Renata said. “You’re never satisfied. That’s why you can’t keep a man.”

“You little bitch,” Bonnie said. “How can you say such a thing to me? I’m your friend.”

“And that’s what a friend does, you witch.”

Renata got to her feet. She doubled up her fists.

Slocum stepped between them.

“No fighting,” he said. “You gals get some sleep. You’re both worn out.”

“I could last all night with you, John,” Bonnie said, softening.

“That’s enough for one night, Bonnie,” Slocum said. “Now get back in that wagon before I spank you.”

Bonnie’s eyes brightened.

“Oooh,” she exclaimed.

Renata spat out of the side of her mouth in disgust.

She gathered up her gown and slipped it back on.

Bonnie stood there for another few seconds, then
stooped over and picked up her nightclothes and slipped them back on.

“Maybe in town…” she said to Slocum.

“Maybe,” he said. He began to put on his black pants and shirt. He pulled on his boots as Bonnie walked back to the wagon.

Slocum sat down and waited until it was quiet again. Then he plucked a cheroot from his pocket, lit it with a lucifer, and smoked.

Halfway through his cigar, he heard a muffled sound. Instinctively, he reached for his gun belt and unwrapped it.

He peered into the darkness in the direction of the soft sound.

His hand slid to the handle of his bowie knife. He saw a silver flash in the moonlight.

Then one of the shadows grew larger and started toward him.

Slocum drew his knife, and stubbed out his cheroot.

The shadow crept closer and he saw the form of a man, who held a blade in his hand.

Slocum lay flat and the shadow began to run toward him.

Ten feet away, he saw the Apache, silent as a cat, running toward him at full speed, running toward the hobbled horses.

When the Apache was two yards away, Slocum rose up and held the big blade at his waist, ready to strike.

The Apache’s arm rose up and Slocum saw the knife in his hand poised to strike. Slocum went into a crouch and stepped into the charge, arms widespread like a pair of giant pincers.

Slocum bowed his head and drove into the Apache’s midriff. At the same time, he reached up and grabbed the man’s wrist above the hand that held the blade. The Apache twisted away as Slocum swung his knife in a tight arc.

The two men grappled and turned in a half circle.

Slocum felt the hot breath of the Apache brave on his face as both struggled to gain an advantage over the other.

Neither man said a word. The only sound was their heavy breathing as they tugged and pushed at each other in a fight to the death.

The Apache grabbed Slocum’s wrist to keep from getting stabbed. His grip was strong, but Slocum jerked his knife hand away and staggered out of reach for a second or two. The Apache swung his knife in a wide arc. The blade swished past Slocum’s face and he reached out,
grabbed the Apache’s arm, just above the wrist. He squeezed and twisted, but the knife didn’t fall from the brave’s hand. Instead, the Apache jerked free and circled Slocum, his knife poised like a snake to strike.

Obie stopped snoring.

His eyes opened. He saw only the blackness of the bottom of the wagon bed and a few stars in a small portion of the sky. But instinctively, he knew something was wrong. He heard the muffled sounds of a scuffle and touched the stock of his rifle lying alongside his bedroll. The sounds did not make sense at first, but he came fully alert and crawled out from under the wagon, the rifle in his grip.

The Apache, wearing only a loincloth, moccasins, and a headband, lunged at Slocum full force, his knife poised just above his shoulders, his hand drawn back like a prizefighter’s fist as he snarled under his breath. Slocum stared death in the face just then, and for a split second he thought he would be opened up like a butcher’s carcass.

At the last moment, Slocum ducked and dodged. It was purely instinctive, he knew, but it saved his life. The Apache hurtled past as Slocum whirled and slashed at the Apache’s midsection. The Apache’s forward momentum caught him by surprise and he lost his footing for a moment.

Slocum sliced a thin cut in the Indian’s side, and knew that it was not enough.

The Apache whirled to counter Slocum’s attack. That was his big mistake.

Slocum brought the big blade up and swiped it across the warrior’s forehead, just above the eyebrows. He hit hard and the blade of the bowie slashed a deep cut in the Apache’s skull. Clear to the skull bone. Blood gushed from the long wound and dripped into the warrior’s eyes. The Apache was blinded and staggered under the force of the
blow. He tried to wipe the blood from his eyes, but they had filled up and rendered him totally blind.

The warrior regained his balance enough to turn and brace himself against Slocum’s rush. But he was not fast enough. Slocum brought his blade up from knee-high and drove it into the Apache’s gut. The blade sank in to the hilt. Blood squirted from the brave’s belly button and he doubled up both from pain and the shock of the wound. Slocum twisted the knife blade and sawed sideways, first to the right, then to the left. The bowie knife cut both ways and entrails began to squeeze through the wound like the slimy coils of a skinned snake.

The brave doubled up and dropped to his knees, his intestines exploding through the gaping wound. Slocum withdrew his knife and stepped in close. He pushed the brave’s head back with his left hand and slashed at the exposed throat with the bowie. A gaping wound opened up and a waterfall of blood gushed out as the Apache’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and he could no longer draw or expel his breath. He made a gurgling sound and fell forward, lifeless.

Thirty yards away, three shadows rose up against the black skyline. Slocum heard the pad of moccasined feet. He sheathed his knife and drew his Colt .45. Then, a shape appeared beside him and he caught sight of Obie out of the corner of his eye.

Obie raised his rifle to his shoulder.

“I got him in my sights,” Obie said, and Slocum heard the snick of metal as Obie cocked the hammer back on his rifle.

Slocum cocked his pistol and raised his arm. He drew a bead on the warrior to the left of the other two and held his breath as he lined up the rear buckhorn with the front blade at the muzzle.

Obie fired, and Slocum saw one of the braves clutch his chest and pitch forward.

“Got him,” Obie said, and levered another cartridge into the firing chamber of his rifle.

Slocum squeezed the trigger and saw the blast of orange and blue flame as burning powder propelled the .45-caliber lead projectile from the barrel. The bullet smacked into the warrior’s chest, splitting the breastbone and flattening against his backbone. The man dropped like a sashweight to the ground, and as Obie took aim on the third man, Slocum thumbed the hammer back. The cylinder spun and seated with another bullet in firing position.

Both men fired at the same time. Both bullets caught the last brave in the chest. His body twisted with the impact of two bullets and blood gushed from a pair of holes. He slowed, but his forward momentum carried him another two or three feet and then he crumpled, dead before his body struck the ground.