Episode 5: Bourbon Cowboy

Traipsing down her staircase dressed to kill, Stacy Puma rounded her garage home. She wore overly tight white jeans and a brilliant turquoise colored off the shoulder top that had an America Indian style pattern of various ornate colors embroidered into it. Each tiny triangle or bead was a different color. Made of silk it clung to her chest like it was glued on. Her nipples violently aroused by the movements against the material as she jiggled. That would be a constant. She adored her carefully selected wardrobe.

Around her neck she wore her rawhide choker with its turquoise cameo. A gift from her brother’s girlfriend, Bree Barrett. She was out to impress. On top of her head, she wore a cowboy hat of black bulls hide with a ring of serpentine leather. She couldn’t be any sexier.

Stepping toward the street she spots her future sister-in-law Bree rolling their garbage can to the curb. Bree herself wore a tight white wifebeater and blue jean shorts. Her own nipples stabbing at her senses. She felt sexy in her own way. Her curly red hair blowing in the breeze. Turning to see Stacy she whistled playfully, “Someone’s looking to get laid.”

Stacy walked toward her trying to keep her composure. She felt guilty over what she and her brother Griffin had done yesterday. It gave her a stabbing pit in her stomach to know incest was now dangling over her head like a pendulum. Wrong not just on a blood aspect but because now she was aware that Griffin was capable of cheating on Bree. Bree might be a pain in her ass, but Stacy did have a conscience. Not much of one mind you but still. So not telling her. Nope!

“Just going out for a couple beers with a guy I met. Just friends. Not really my type but he’s cool.”

For once she left her laptop at home. Her friend Xander told her that he would bring his own setup. It was nice not having to lug her pack around. She smirked at her own thoughts, “Maybe I should let guys be my pack mules from here on out. I do all the other work. Pamper the Puma motherfuckers. It’s my holes getting vioLAYted. AnnihiLAYted!”

Bree casually met Stacy on the gravel driveway and looked at her with admiration. Even she considered Stacy a future model. Then she was reminded of the girl’s attitude problems. No modelling agency in their right mind would put up with her.

“I hope we didn’t keep you up too late last night.” Bree blushed.

“Oh, I heard you kids. Believe you me.” Stacy grimaced. Stacy’s perverted ego just knew it was she that got Griffin worked up enough to take the remainder of his frustrations out on Bree. Wrong or not, Stacy knew her shit did not stink.

“Sorry. Your brother took me off guard. I think that was the best sex we’ve ever had. I don’t know what got him so worked up.”

Stacy hated herself but she had to be her usual bitch persona, “Whatever it was I’m sure it was inspirational.”

Bree flares her eyebrows smiling, “I don’t care what it was I just hope he keeps it up. You might end up being an aunt at this rate.” Hearing that made Stacy shiver. She knew she herself needed to get on birth control. Planned Parenthood here she comes. No insurance that was her only really source. Fuck Obamacare, or whatever they called it nowadays. Bidencare?

“You two actually want kids?” Stacy groans. She herself couldn’t deal with children.

“Someday. Not this soon in our relationship though.” Bree smiled from ear to ear recalling her amazing night with Griffin. Stacy fidgeted knowing just how she felt. Wrong! SO WRONG!

“Keep it down tonight. I’ll be drunk and might throw beer bottles at the house.” Stacy sheepishly smirks. “Here’s to you BITCHES!!!” Bree found it amusing. Stacy was serious though. Before any further discussion could make matters worse Stacy spots Xander’s SUV, an olive-green Pathfinder coming up the street.

“Here’s my stagecoach. Time to ride. Hear ya later “B”.

“Have a good time.” Bree watches intently, “Oh, he’s cute.”

“Quit trying to steal my thunder.” Stacy flips her off. Not like Stacy didn’t steal Bree’s! Stupid cunt! Opening his passenger front door Stacy climbs in beside Xander. He was dressed up too. Wearing blue jeans, black cowboy shirt, and boots. A shiny belt buckle completed his stud outfit.

“Looking sharp, Shooter.” Stacy admires.

“You too Pokiehontas.”

“Racist much?” She frowns with squinted eyes.

“No more than you are.” He drives on. Steering around a corner he leers over, “Where we headed?”

“Somewhere where you will look out of place.”

“Bowling Alley?” He chuckles.

“Nope. The Rez Paleface.”

His eyes bulge, “Seriously? Are you trying to get me scalped?”

“You can borrow my hat to cover up the bald spot.”

He shakes his head, “I’m gonna die.”

“I’ll protect you Pussy.”

“Pussy? Look who’s talking Puma. I never told you but I think your last name is hot as hell.”

“What’s your last name? Chickenfoot?”

“You’re a riot. It’s Coyne.”

“Coyne? As in flip a Coin?” She raises her middle fingers and flips him off double barreled.

Amused he nods with a hint of smugness and accepts her humor, “It’s Irish.”

“You drink Irish whiskey?”

“Bourbon. Weaned on it as a baby. Trust me, I can hold my own.”

“Good! Then I won’t have to hold it for you.” She makes a jerking off hand gesture, “Bet I can drink you under the table.” She smirks and teases his ear canal with her index finger. He swerves in the street at her mischievous taunting.

“Keep it up we may never make it out of the city. Where is the Rez anyway?”

“I got gas money.” She winks. He pauses to examine her state of mind. She appeared confident that he was under her spell. He was. Damn her!

“Where is this place?”

“It’s not really a Rez. I call it a Rez because I grew up there. A tiny population of Apache moved up here like fifty years ago from the Jicarilla tribe down south near the border. Little town called Iron Wolf. Population 600 maybe. Mostly elders and punk kids. I used to be one of those.” She giggles, “Not much there beside a couple bars, a grocery, a gas station, and a health clinic in a mobile home.”

“Wow! Never heard of it. How far out?”

“Hit the interstate South. It’s about 70 miles. Middle of nowhere. Scorpion, Rattlers, and awesome drugs.”

“Drugs? You do drugs?”

“Not often. I do smoke some weed and drop acid now and then. I like to party, but I keep it social. When I’m alone, I don’t do much. My parents were Alcoholics. I never want to go there. I drink I just cut myself off after a one-night binge. My brother is the same way. He moved me in with him to get me out of Iron Wolf.”

“Sounds like you love your Bro.”

She pauses and hides her eyes looking out the window, “We understand each other.”

“I have two brothers myself. Fergus and Donnie. Older than me.”

“You don’t sound Irish.”

He glares at her with amusement, “What? So, I should be wearing green and looking for four leaf clovers?”

“You drive a green SUV. That says it all.”

“You caught me. You’re welcome to frisk me for the pot of gold.”

“Well, I know one thing for certain.” She reaches over and squeezes the contour of his rather large cock through his jeans, “It’s not hiding here.”

“Sez you! That there’s a gold bar.” Laughter together made the long ride tolerable. Locating the tiny burg of Iron Wolf toward dusk Xander is led to a good-sized bar. Rundown but a large number of pickup trucks and older model cars were parked in the gravel lot. If the population was 600 then a hundred of them were here.

“Wolf Calls?” He reads the neon sign, “Sounds like a strip club.”

“Will be tonight.” She offers him a sensuous grin.

“Okay? How are we pulling this off?”

“This one’s easy. The Elders around here are horn dogs. They used to flirt with me all through high school. My dad might even be here. I don’t see his truck though.”

“Wait! You’re going to strip even with your dad there if he shows up?”

“Sure. He knows what I’m like.”

“Hold on a second. Your dad has seen you naked?”

Stacy laughs almost choking, “Well, yeah! All my life. Patted my behind after powdering it as a baby.” She gets out of the SUV and walks to the front grill of the vehicle. Throwing her arms up with an expectant look he shakes his head and gets out, grabbing his own laptop case and bag. Stopping in front of her he had to ask.

“I have to know. Don’t hate me for asking. Are we talking incest here?” She looked disappointed in Xander, but it wasn’t his curiosity that bothered her. The incest hit home with she and Griffin. Forming an answer she fidgets, “Not with my dad. He just let me do what I pleased. My mom did too. I spent a lot of time nude at home.”

“And they didn’t give you hell for it?”

“Nope. Because I did all the chores while they got drunk. Closest incest with my dad was sitting in his lap. Which now that I think about it that was an uncomfortable chair.” She chuckles.

“Wow! I just don’t know what to make of you Puma.”

“Chill out X. Let’s just go inside, get drunk, and put on a webcam show. If I make enough money tonight, I’ll buy the house a shot.” He followed her in. Her white pants glowing in the dark. She did love her Ghost Dancing. He was rock hard even under stress.

At the door was a tall chubby Bouncer. He was roughly 35. Long black hair pinned back into a ponytail. If a smile had every crossed his face it must have been as a baby. “Virgil!” Stacy throws her arms in the air shuffling toward the man. He glared at her and threw his arms around her picking her up off the ground swinging her around. Her cowboy hat nearly fell off. With a kiss to his cheek, he lowers her to the ground.

“What brings you home Pretty Puma?” He questions with a suspicious grimace.

“Felt like visiting. Oh! Ignore the Whiteman, he’s usually not so pale.” Virgil glares at Xander then points at his bag.

“What are you carrying?”

Stacy plants a hand on his chest, “Remember when you used to come over to our house with Griffin?”

His eyes light up, “I do.”

“Well tonight you get to see me dance naked like old times.”

“In the tavern?” He squints.

“In the bar. On the bar. I do webcam shows for money. This gig could make me rich.”

“Roland will be happy to see you.”

“I hope so. I’ve missed the old man.” She looks back at Xander, “Roland owns the bar. He’s like sixty. Loves my sweet tight buns.”

Xander swallows dryly, “Who doesn’t?”

Virgil steps up to him with an intimidating stare. He could feel his exhales across his face. “Are you calling Stacy a slut?”

“Umm! Her online name is ApacheSlut.” He barely recites.

The stare grew grimmer. Then just like that Virgil grinned, “Yeah, she is a slut. A hot one at that. Gimme a lap dance before you head out.”

“Awww! I love you too Virgil.” Stacy hugs him from the side.

Virgil pats her arm with respect, “Go on in. Don’t forget my lap dance.” He had to repeat himself to make certain she heard him the first time.

“Only if you drop your drawers like a warrior.”

“You know I will. I will perform a rain dance on your ass.”

“I hear the thunder rumbling Big Guy.”

Stepping aside he allows Xander past. Following Stacy into the tavern he realized he was the only white man in the bar. Silence trailed him like an unwanted friend. Stacy skipped amongst everyone leaving Xander alone. Tossing her hands in the air she howls like a wolf at the top of her lungs. The silence broke as everyone in the bar howled back and raised their drinks high toasting her.

Seeing Roland behind the bar Stacy bolts between two men standing at the bar drinking. She literally uses them as human ladders to launch herself on to the bar top. From her knees she throws herself down into Roland Moody’s awaiting arms. He nearly fell over but smiled like never before. His hand rubbing her back beneath her loose shirt. Only around her tits was the shirt maintained from falling away. Xander could see the man’s hand sliding all the way up to her neck. Obviously, they were close. Like a grandfather bond. Stacy is released and sits on the bar to drape her legs in front of the portly old man.

“I hear you missed me.” She winks at him, her palms on the bar.

“About time you came around. I’m not getting any younger. How’s your brother?”

“He’s Griffin.” She fidgets. Just talking about her brother made her tense.

“Heard he became a cop.” He shuffles closer between her legs and plants his palms on her upper thighs, rubbing them from knee to crotch. His thumbs easing into hostile territory.

“Yeah. Seems to like it. He gets to put handcuffs on girls if they get rowdy. Guys too but that’s another story.”

“Same old Griffin. He always did play rough.”

“Try living around him.” She chuckles. Xander eased to the bar and silently observes their interaction. The old man seemed awful hands on. What was worse is Stacy didn’t seem to mind. The two guys that she had used as ladders eyed Xander for his pack and laptop.

One of them steps closer leaning his back on the bar, “You Puma’s Man?”

Xander swallowed dryly but put on a good façade, “Friend and bodyguard.”

Looking him over for his size the Apache resident nods, “Bodyguard maybe. You look strong for a white man. Friend? Don’t see it.”

Not to be intimidated Xander shrugs, “Am what I am. Buy you a beer?” Puckering the man accepts through a respectful nod. It was free. Indians liked givers!

A waitress approached from the far end of the bar. She looked to be 40. Definitely Apache’s. Huge breasts with massive cleavage. Bead bracelets around her wrists.

“Three beers. For me and my two new friends here.” Xander recommended.

“If you say so. Draft or bottle?” She spoke.

“Be nice to my token white guy, Edie. He’s my ride home.” Stacy looked over while still being cozy with Roland. The man was certainly mesmerized by the girl, his hands now lifting her shirt to get a look at her perfect tits. “Mind your business, Roland.” She pinched her shirt higher and placed the hemline between her lips, so he had much easier access. Her tits were his business, her calling card.

Edie Beartooth went around the bar with Roland busy squeezing the Puma’s titties and returned on the beverage side of the bar with three bottles. Noting the two patrons she knew as Fred and Joseph; she handed them their beers first then she slid Xander’s bottle the final two feet toward him to catch. Xander in turn retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and paid the waitress, “Keep the tip.”

Edie rolls her eyes, “Rather keep our land.”

Xander had heard enough, “Really? Do I look like the U.S. Government? I’m a freaking college student working on my Master’s in Archaeology.”

Stacy heard him raise his voice and smiled at his bravado. Feeling the need to keep him safe she calls out, “Chill Edie. The man likes digging up Boners.”

Xander tilts his gaze, “Seriously? You too?”

Everyone grew silent at his outburst. Xander looked about him and lifts his beer. As soon as he had everyone’s attention, he belts out a deafening wolf call. To his shock the room joined him for his standing his ground.

Stacy howled her own call and pointed at Xander with a thumb over her shoulder laughing. Roland was now sucking her left nipple. Regardless, Xander stood smug as the man standing next to him clinked their bottles together.

“Welcome to sacred ground Blood Brother.” Joseph chimed in.

“Glad to be here. Let’s get drunk.” While now making friends Xander, Fred, and Joseph shot the shit for the next twenty minutes.

Stacy remained with Roland the majority of that time. His hands and lips never left her body. She talked her legs off so to speak. Going so far as to fan her legs wider to display her cameltoe through her white jeans. Roland’s thumbs moved within an inch to either direction of it but respected her enough to never press in too dead center. Deciding it time to behave Roland left her nipple with a bite and tug.

“Your white man has a warrior soul.” Roland stares at her eyes.

“Does he? All I see is a guy lusting over me. Oh wait! That’s you.” She giggles.

“As playful as ever. What brings you here?”

“Spirits. I need to raise some. Can I go wild in the bar Roland?”

“Pumas and Wolves are enemies. How do you plan to make them get along?”

“Charm the fur off them. Guarantee some tail wagging by dawn.”

“Good thing for you I’m the Sheriff of Iron Wolf.”

“Awoooo!” She whispers another wolf call toward him. The elder chuckles and squeezes her legs tightly.

“Give me a kiss young one.” She leans forward and palms the man’s cheeks and shares a steamy kiss. Two minutes later the kiss breaks and Roland pats her thighs.

“Tame the wolves.” He spoke directly a darkness now in his gaze.

“Let me get set up. I do webcam shows for money. I’ll be sure to keep your face out of it., you the law and all.”

“You speak as if I am worried.”

“Okee then! Bless you Roland. I’ll be back on the bar just like this once I strip. Get those thumbs ready.” She winks.

“You have not changed.”

“Never will. Help me down Chief.”

Not insulted by her in the least he guides her to the floor behind the bar and watches her wiggle around it. He knew he would need a Viagra before the end of the night. As she rounded the bar, she giddily hugged every man she knew. Nearly everyone. Each of them copped a feel of her ass. The Braves were in the house. Reaching Xander and Joseph, Stacy interrupts them by hugging Joseph, “Thanks for the step up earlier.” Joseph Crawling Cub embraced her with respect. The type that she demanded.

“Here! Hold my beer.” Joseph plants his beer bottle up under her shirt between her breasts and she crushes her chest around it to hold the bottle firm. He then hugged her even tighter. The laughter left Xander shaking his head. Shivering Stacy felt Joseph retrieve his bottle pulling it slowly through her tit’s compression.

“Cold. Cold. Cold.” She giggled.

Xander lifts his own bottle toward her playfully, “Who do you think you are? The only thing going between the ladies is something long, tall, and warm. He can get away with that. Not you Paleface.”

“Does this always have to come down to racist slurs? Do you hear me call you Squaw?” He looked frustrated, “Or hey, want to smoke my peace pipe?”

She rolls her eyes, “You worry too much. Say what you want. These good people only look offended. Isn’t that right, Shitting Bull?” She pats Joseph on the chest.

“Not offended.”

Xander narrows his eyes, “So I can call you, “Panther in Heat?”

Joseph nods, “It’s true.”

Stacy puckers in thought, “Yes, it is. Fire up the laptop Cactus Lilly.”

In response Xander winces, “Is that my Indian name?”

“Native American! No, I chose the name because you’re white and a prick.”

Xander sighs, “And the claws come out.”

He turns away and unpacks his laptop and lengthy webcam cord. Once on the bar she hops on a barstool to set up her room. The lonely perverts were out in force tonight. Greeting over thirty entrants she let them view her sitting in the bar. Scanning the webcam out toward the packed tavern. A shot of the dance floor. Jukebox. Even a mechanical bull.