El Paso
Chapter 21

Copyright© 2007 by Joe J

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 21 - 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  

Belle showed up right on time the next day and sat down to memorize the words to the song as I hummed the melody and the Hombres fleshed out the music. We were in the dance hall while Pen and Liz were interviewing dancers.

Pen had a good system for the dancers who sold a little companionship on the side. The bartender at the bar near the stairs that led up to the second floor rooms controlled the keys during the evening. A man who wanted some private companionship made his deal with the girl on the floor. The barman rented the key to the woman’s room to the patron for five dollars for an hour. No money changed hands between the patron and the woman, unless it was for performing more than the standard service. Every time a key left its hook, a colored tag replaced it. When the key came back, it was hung over the tag. At the end of the evening, the woman was paid three dollars for every tag on her hook. Between dancing and going upstairs, the full service women made ten to twenty-five dollars a night. That was huge money in eighteen-seventy-seven.

We ran through the song a couple of times as I made a few suggestions on timing to Belle. She caught on right away, and before you knew it, she had transformed herself into a soulful chanteuse. Belle stayed with me all afternoon. She had her song down pat, although she had to glance at the words I had written out a few times.

After we rehearsed for an hour, we went into my office and talked. Belle thought the song I’d written her was wonderful and asked me how I did it overnight like that. I shrugged and said it was a gift, I guessed. While we were talking, a gust of wind blew some sand against the panes of my office window. The wind made me think of another favorite of my dad, performed by Patsy Cline. I asked Belle to give me a minute, grabbed my pen, and dipped it in my crystal inkwell. I wrote for about five minutes as the lyrics popped back into my head. When I finished, I handed the lyrics to “The Wayward Wind” to a very curious Belle.

“That’s how it works,” I said. “Something as simple as that gust of wind triggered the idea for a song. I write down the words as they pop into my thick skull, and think up the melody at the same time.”

Of course that was all a big load of hogwash, but pretty little Belle didn’t need to know that.

She read through the words and asked about the melody. I sang a few lines for her, stressing the key words, and she nodded excitedly.

“I think I’ve got it, let’s go see if the musicians can play this.”

I knew by now the Hombres could play anything I could hum a few bars of, so I took her back out. The fellows were about to leave, but Belle charmed them into going through the song with her a couple of times.

After the Hombres headed off for their siestas, Belle and I went back to my office again. I was about to walk around and sit behind my desk, when she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I put my arms around her waist and kissed her back with passion. When we finally came up for air, she leaned back in my arms and smiled shyly.

“I hope you don’t think me a wanton Jezebel, Ty, but I grew weary of waiting for you to take the initiative. You are making me feel things I thought I’d never feel again. That is both exhilarating and frightening.”

I told her we would go at the speed she was comfortable with, and reminded her that I was seeing other women. She laughed when I said that and hugged me.

“So you’ve heard the rumors, huh? I think you might need to take what people say with a grain of salt, you being an attorney and all. Besides, I don’t have a shotgun out here ... yet. I also don’t see you as being the marrying type, so you are safe enough.”

The way she said all that, neither confirmed nor denied the rumors about her past. But she still eased my mind some by what she said. As far as the part about being the marrying type ... well, look at my track record. I was oh for four so far.

Belle and I kissed and fooled around a little more, but didn’t get too serious about it. I meant what I said about us taking our time, and letting her set the pace. Around four, we both left the Toro and headed home to take a little nap before the night started. Belle said she’d see me at ten and kissed me one last, lingering time. I was feeling pretty darned chipper as I headed back to Molly’s.

I had six new women working in the dance hall that night and all of them fit right in. It was another insanely busy Saturday night, with all the tables filled and men standing two deep at the bar. By the time Belle arrived at ten, we had already sold three thousand tickets.

The ten o’clock floor show was welcomed by the dancers, as they had a chance to catch a break while the Hombres and I did our act. They took turns sitting in the audience and whooping it up with everyone else. We had a loud and good natured crowd that night, so I tried out my newest version of Alley Oop. This time, while it was still a sing along, I had Conchita and three of the other dancers as my back-up singers. I had taught them some of the moves I remembered from the nineteen-sixties girl groups. They were behind me as I sang, doing the oop-oops and shaking their booties. They were having fun and the crowd loved it.

At ten-twenty or so, Feleena walked in. When the Hombres struck up the intro to El Paso, everyone yelled ‘FELEENA!’ I sang the song and Feleena gave me the nicest smile I’d seen from her in quite a while.

I went to her table and said hello, then walked back to the band. I held up my hands and asked for quiet, it took a minute or so, but I finally had everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I know that you love listening to me and the Hombres, but I’ll bet you’ve wondered why we don’t have a lady singer. I wondered that, too. So, I went out and found one. I am proud to introduce for her first time on stage, the El Paso Nightingale, Miss Belle Boushelle.”

I was damned proud of the stage name I’d made up for Belle, to me it sounded pretty classy.

Belle walked out and looked a little nervous. I moved away from the stage and found a seat at a table close to the band. To my surprise, Belle gave the guys a little follow me signal and came over to where I sat.

She took a breath and started singing a cappella:

“I fall to pieces,
each time I see you again.
I fall to pieces,
how can I be just your friend?”

Wow! She put something into that song that wasn’t there this afternoon. I think singing in front of an audience souped her up or something, because she was amazing. The Hombres started playing softly as she started the second verse of the song, and her voice grew strong to be heard above them. Her voice was sexily soulful and crystal clear as she hit each note. I have to admit that I was getting a lump in my trousers from her voice and the way she looked at me while she sang.

Belle finished the last stanza in a throaty warble that sounded as if she were about to burst into tears:

“ ... But each time I go out with someone new,
you walk by and I fall to pieces.”

It was dead silent for about a two count, then the applause and cheering started. Belle curtsied, then launched into ‘Wayward Wind’. The ‘Wayward Wind’ was a good song to sing in El Paso, because one of the verses mentions her meeting a guy down in a border town.

After her singing debut, Belle ran over and gave me an excited hug.

“I was so nervous at first, Ty, and then I looked at you and felt calm and serene.”

As we hugged, I saw Feleena watching us intently. I sat Belle down at the table I was at and went to sing a couple of numbers myself. I still think the mariachi version of ‘Ring of Fire’ that the Hombres played was the best version I’d ever heard, even with me singing.

Sunday morning, Molly and I had more slippery fun in her bathtub. This time we were even friskier than last week. We were both looking forward to spending the night together.

After bathing and shaving, I put on my charro suit and headed to the stables. I had rented a small two-seat surrey for the day, and had even practiced hitching Melosa to it so she could go with us to church. She was dubious at first about pulling the rig, but didn’t put up a big fuss. I swear if I could find a woman that was always sweetly disposed and eager to see me as Melosa, she’d be wife number five in a heartbeat.

Melosa and I moseyed on over to the Lopez hacienda and I took a seat on the porch with Hector and the other suitors. Hector was smiling like he’d gotten away with something as he held court.

“So Tyler, you are here to court Maria, eh?” Hector asked teasingly.

 
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