El Paso
Chapter 15

Copyright© 2007 by Joe J

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 15 - Tyler McGuinn was a washed up rodeo bull rider when he boarded a plane in Phoenix one day in 1977. The next thing he knew, he was a no account cowboy on a cattle drive headed for El Paso in 1877. To make matters worse, he was the cowboy destined to die by the back door of Rosa's Cantina. Fate had dealt Ty an ugly hand...or maybe not. NOW AVAILABLE ON BOOKAPY!

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Romantic   BiSexual   Historical   Harem  

It was after two on Sunday afternoon when I returned to my room. I changed clothes and spent a few minutes sorting out my laundry to take to Clem’s the next day. In mid-nineteenth century El Paso, there was no wearing an outfit fifteen minutes and throwing it into the dirty clothes. Washing clothes was a huge chore back then, so a person tended to get the maximum wear out of an outfit between cleanings.

Personal hygiene wasn’t quite as casual here in the city as it was in the countryside, but people weren’t obsessed about bathing either. A good bath every two or three days was the norm. Yes, of course people smelled, so what? Since everyone was in the same boat, a little earthy aroma wasn’t a big deal. I had to admit that I had been very lucky, in that the women I had bedded were all fastidious about their cleanliness. My guess was that, even in these times, women knew the importance of keeping themselves clean ‘down there’ because of health issues.

So anyway, there I sat in my room, bored to oblivion. I dug out my cleaning kit and cleaned my pistol and rifle for lack of anything better to do. While I had my pistol partially disassembled, I had the thought that, times being as they were, it might not hurt to fire a few rounds with the pistol and rifle to keep my skills sharp. I liked the hell out of that idea the more I thought about it, so I put the pistol together and grabbed my hat, rifle and saddlebags.

I fast walked down to the stables and saddled Melosa up again. She was tickled pink on getting to go out a second time that day. She was even happier, I think, when I started singing. Today I was working on my own version of Marty Robbins’s “El Paso”. The ballad he wrote about Uncle Ty and Feleena’s doomed love. Of course, my version was going to have a much happier ending.

As we rode out of town, out of habit I took the west road that twisted alongside the river. Since the Lopez home was in that direction, I decided to stop and see if Anna wanted to go shooting with me.

It was about four in the afternoon, when Melosa and I arrived at the Lopez’s house. Everyone was outside, seeing Emilio and his boys off as they headed home. From all the smiling and hugging, it must have been a successful visit. I waited off to the side and waved to Emilio as he pulled his wagon out of the yard.

As Emilio headed out onto the road, Anna walked over to where Melosa and I were standing.

“So, Charro, you came to visit after all.”

I hopped down out of the saddle and kissed her hand.

“Your beauty draws me as the sweet honeysuckle draws the hummingbird.”

Anna actually giggled when I laid that line on her. She grabbed my hand and led me up to the porch.

“Come on in, sweet talker, and you can pass out whatever is in the saddlebags.”

I followed her inside and took a seat at the large family table while Anna gathered her family and fetched the saddlebags. When she handed me the bags, I opened the buckles on both sides and cleared my throat.

“When I arrived in El Paso last month, I met Maria on my first evening in town. The following morning I met Juanita and she invited me to attend church with her family. Since then you all have been wonderful to me, and I think the way you made me feel welcome, had a lot to do with the success I’ve had since I’ve been here. To express my gratitude for all you’ve done for me, I found each of you a little personal gift.”

The first thing I pulled out of the bag was a hand sewn stuffed horse that looked a lot like Melosa. I handed it to little Anna and she grabbed it tightly.

“Losa,” she squealed as she hugged the doll.

Next out of the bag was a set of silver hair combs for Juanita. The combs were ornately filigreed and very Spanish in their design. I knew they’d look terrific holding up Juanita’s mass of ebony tresses. Juanita took them and dashed off to put them in her hair.

Most of the gifts I was passing out came from the shop down in El Paso del Norte where I bought my furniture, but the next one came from Pritchett’s Mercantile. It was the gold pocket watch Mister Pritchett had tried to sell me. Funny how it was too expensive for my own use, but I didn’t blink at spending fifteen dollars on it for Hector. At the same time I gave Hector his watch, I gave Ramona a gold brooch in the shape of a hummingbird with green gemstones for eyes. They both protested that the gifts were too much, but I just smiled and shook my head.

“You can’t put a price on family,” I said, “and I’m proud that you’ve let me be a part of yours.”

Maria received a finely wrought gold cross on a delicate chain. She absolutely loved it. She swept her hair off her neck and had me fasten the chain for her. When the cross settled on her dress in the valley between her perky breasts, she threw her arms around me and kissed me.

The final gifts I pulled out of the saddle bags were for my wonderful friend and lover Anna. For her, I had bought a silver mirror and brush set. The brush and mirror were almost works of art, with what appeared to be hand carved cameos set in the back. I had to do some powerful dickering with the shopkeeper in Mexico. He finally relented to selling them at a price I could afford when I brought up all the money I had spent there and the future business we would be doing.

Anna looked at the brush and mirror in awe as she traced the outline of the cameo with her fingertip.

“These are too beautiful to waste on an old woman,” she said softly.

I quickly disagreed.

“Nonsense,” I said. “They are beautiful things for a beautiful woman. It is past time you let your hair down and lived again.”

When I said that, heads all around the table started nodding in agreement.

Anna looked at all the nodding heads and gave me a smoldering look.

“We shall see about that, my amazing young vaquero, we shall definitely see about that.”

After more thanks, handshakes and hugs, I finally got around to asking Anna if she wanted to go with me while I practiced with my pistol and rifle. She agreed and Maria asked if she could go with us. I said that was fine. Anna told me that she needed ten minutes or so to get ready and dragged Maria and Ramona off with her. I sat and yakked with Hector while I waited.

Hector Calis was a good man. He worked hard and took excellent care of his family. Hector and I had a friendly relationship based on mutual respect, once he learned that I wasn’t all about getting into his daughters’ pantaloons.

I steered our conversation around to the deepening rift between the Mexicans and Anglos of El Paso. Hector put the blame squarely on Charles Howard. According to Hector, Howard and his bunch of Missouri cronies had imported all their Civil War prejudices to El Paso. Howard looked down on anyone who wasn’t a lily-white, Baptist Democrat. I could see in Hector the seeds of the anger that eventually resulted in Howard’s death by a Mexican firing squad.

Our chit-chat was cut short by the return of Anna and Maria. Hector and I did a double take at the sight of Anna in a light blue dress. Her hair was loose and flowing and hung down her back almost to her waist. Hector was even more impressed than I was.

“You look exactly as you did the first time I met you, Abuela. You were even wearing that dress as I recall,” he said.

Anna beamed him a smile that he had remembered and patted his cheek.

Everything about Anna belied her age. Her petite body, glistening black hair and smooth skin could have belonged to a woman twenty years younger. Only a few gray hairs and some wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and eyes hinted at the truth. I think her attitude had much to do with it, too. When she wanted to be, Anna was as vivacious and flirty as a woman half her age.

We said our goodbyes to Hector and Ramona and walked down towards the river again. Anna knew a spot where the embankment was high enough to form a backstop for any errant bullets, so that’s where we headed. I took Melosa with us when we went. Melosa was a vaquero’s horse and not gun shy in the least, but I figured that firing a few rounds from the saddle was still good training for her. Being on a gun shy horse when you needed to shoot, was not a cheerful prospect.

The spot that Anna and Maria led me to was perfect for a little plinking, although it didn’t give me any room for long range practice with my rifle. Anna had brought along a feed sack full of empty food cans so I’d have something to shoot at. I set out a couple of cans and backed up about fifteen yards. I unhooked the hammer safety and made sure my Colt was sitting lightly in my holster, then squared my shoulders facing my target. I took a breath, drew, aimed and fired at first one can then the other. Both cans jumped satisfyingly into the air. I reholstered my gun and did it again with the same results.

 
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