Chapter 21

Sam received a letter from his fugitive brother Saul from down Nogales way and he was waxing eloquent about the pretty Senoritas and the cheap price for booze if you didn’t mind the lower quality of the taste.

Apparently, he had come under the employ of a widow lady from France that controlled almost all the usable land in his district and she had taken a shine to his rough style of loving that had reacquainted her with the joys of orgasm in her later years.

The letter asked that he give an update on the status of their seriousness in making him an example of frontier justice or if the heat was off and he was in no danger if he elected to return to the vicinity.

Sam had to laugh out loud about the paragraph that described how the widow lady also enjoyed watching him mount her much younger female servants and give them the sting of his huge palms on their plump little bottoms.

Brother Saul certainly didn’t seem to mind that she had some sort of fetish of sucking him off after one of those demonstrations of virile control. He could tell that when she tasted both his dick and the girl’s juices at the very same time, it appeared to rejuvenate her for some vigorous humping action of her own.

Despite her age, which was only about forty, (His brother Saul thought any female over the age of thirty was already past prime poking period) the widow lady managed to drain all of Saul’s copious load and exhaust him with her horny need for masculine attention.

Sam wrote back to his brother that same night and put the letter personally on the Butterfield Stage heading out of town in the direction of the southern border.

It was a brief missive, but the primary context was that it was far too soon to attempt a return to the valley because the State people were still doing their “investigating” meaning they spent most of their time either in the saloon sucking up good booze or upstairs over at the House of Joy getting acquainted up close and personal with the local populace.

His Sue and Nettie were taking care of “Birdie” and the two boys just like they were hers. It purely pleasured him to see her fuss with them and wiping the snot from their noses like they were much younger than they really were in actual years.

He couldn’t help but notice that what with the good food and the constant washing by Sue and Nettie, young Birdie was looking a mite more tolerable face and figure wise and he knew from watching the bathing in the kitchen tub that the now seventeen year old was developing fast into a passible bit of femininity. Her firmly designed and perky breasts and her suddenly hour-glass like buttocks was prime viewing for the rowdy cowboys to gawk at when she swished past them on the rough wooden sidewalks.

The urge to sample her virginal recesses hit him hard in the groin and he almost groaned from the sudden stiffness that bulged his trousers to the maximum. He quickly grabbed Sue and pulled her upstairs to the bed and pushed her down into a face down position pushing up her dress and pulling down her clean white undies at the same time. She gasped when he cleaved into her split from behind but he was so heated that all he could think or see was the young girl Birdie’s firm buttocks being pounded under his steamroller style of loving that females with a sense of adventure appreciated above all else.

He knew that Birdie was a virgin and he should not be having those thoughts and he was overjoyed to have Sue in a submissive state of mind to sort out his urge the old fashioned way with a ready snatch.

Besides, he was totally all full up with females with both Sue and Nettie sharing the big bed with him. He had grown accustomed to it now and he had a hard time remembering which one was on his left and which one was on his right. In all honesty, both of their backsides was almost identical even right down to things like the tightness of their pretty rear door sphincters and the way they would groan down deep each time he explored their back door passageways for new territory. When he was doing them face to face it was a different thing because he could see their eyes if there was even the tiniest bit of light.

He felt a bit sore down there the next day when he had to ride out to the Bar 00 ranch located about ten miles outside the town in the good bottom land close to the fast-flowing river. The owner had contacted his office about the theft of nearly fifty head of cattle and he was checking it out to see if it was an inside job, or if Indians were involved in any way. The size of the theft sort of ruled out the Indians because they only took what they needed for their next meal and it usually was limited to one or two head of cattle at the most.

In the case of the Indians, all he would find might be a stack of bones but even they might be gone if the village had the usual share of stray dogs hoping for a handout to keep their bellies full.

The owner was called Mrs. Henderson but there was sign of a Mister Henderson anywhere close by. Sam was too polite to ask that question, but the older mature woman took his hat and brought him into the parlor with an air of graciousness he had not seen since his days as a young boy way back in Texas.

As he followed behind the slightly swaying hips of the older female, he caught the hint of a scent of imported French perfume of the expensive kind and not the cheap stuff that the shops in town peddled as the “real thing”.

“I do hope that you will take some of this delicious liquor that my deceased husband Donald so enjoyed in his later years. The poor man passed with a glass of it just inches from his hand and I finished it for him as a sign of my sadness and deep respect.”