Chapter 14

Bob almost didn't go back in Millie's little house. That was primarily because even after jerking the spunk out of his prick, he still wanted to lie on top of Millie and make sweet love to her. As he stepped up to the door, he hoped she was still naked. As he opened the door, he hoped she'd gotten dressed again. This woman was tearing him up.

She hadn't gotten dressed, but she'd pulled the sheet over her body. He stood, just looking in her direction. It was too dark to perceive any detail. He could feel his penis trying to get stiff again.

"I should go," he said, softly.

"I've never done that before," she said.

"I know."

"No ... what I meant was about my missing memories. There is no way in the world I could forget doing that. Thank you."

"You're thanking me?" He was incredulous. He felt like he'd molested her.

"Of course I am. That was one of the most wonderful things I've ever felt."

"Well, you're normal," he sighed.

"Why are you running off?" she asked. "Isn't there something I'm supposed to do? You made me feel wonderful, but all I've done is lie here."

"I took care of it already," he said, and then winced as he realized he'd spoken without thinking.

"How?" she asked, actually curious.

"Never mind," he said. "You'll be fine now. That kind of treatment lasts a bit."

"No it doesn't," she said.

"What?"

"I think I need another one already."

There was no guile in her voice. He gazed at her and, in the shadows, saw an innocent young woman who trusted him. And all he wanted to do was fuck her blind. He shook his head. His cock was trying desperately to get hard again.

"Millie," he said, his voice breaking. "Be happy with what you have. A man can't take too much of this without losing control."

He turned and left, before he said anything else stupid.

Behind him, Millie stared into the dark. Soon her fingers were between her legs, rubbing furiously.

She got there, but it wasn't nearly as good as when Bob did it.

In the line shack on the northwest corner of the Double D ranch, Boots had a completely different conversation with the man who had taken her to new heights.

She had let the tears come, in a different kind of release, finally mourning for the loss of her childhood, freedom and virtue. She had thought killing Jasper would set her free, but it had been the gentle, loving touch of another man that had really done that. Boots had never thought about the concept of being in love with a man, because she had always been quite positive that could never, ever happen. So what she was feeling for Dusty, there in his arms, was something so vast and new and beautiful, she had a hard time accepting that it was real.

But his arms were real, and the feel of his chest against hers. She felt something else too, between her legs, where that joy had been so recently expressed. She reached between them to find her young man stiff as a board ... again! And of all things... that was what calmed her, and let her think.

It was the very fact that he was obviously ready for sex ... but hadn't forced himself upon her. That had never happened before... never! ... and the freedom that gave her to lie there and think about things was the most precious thing she felt like she'd ever been given. She squeezed the stiff organ tentatively, knowing that the thing in her hand wouldn't hurt her. Now, curiosity began to come to the fore.

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"It's hard again! It's shot off twice and it's still hard!"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Pretty strange, huh."

"That's no answer," she said into his chest. Her nose ran into something wet and she licked at it. It was salty, probably some of her own tears. "What did you do?"

"Well hell's bells, woman. I didn't do nothin'. You done it."

"All I done was cry like a little baby," she grumbled.

"Boots, it was you. Iffen I wasn't worried you'd do somethin' rash, I'd tell you I think I'm in love with you."

She pulled back and, through shining, still wet eyes, examined his face. She still gripped his stiff cock.

"You worried I'll snatch it off?" she asked, squeezing his organ a bit harder.

"No, I am not," he said, his voice steady.

"Good," she said. "Do you need me to let the pressure offen it again before I go?"

"You have to go?" He was clearly unhappy, and it seemed odd to her that that made her feel happy.

"I done stretched things enough tonight, I think," she said. "We did things I didn't think we'd do. If I stay, I got a feeling we'd do more things. My head ain't on quite straight, I don't think."

"Your head is on just fine," he said, kissing her nose. "But I think I know what you mean."

"You want to do 'em too," she suggested.

"Have since that very first dance," he admitted, grinning. "But you're safe."

"Unless I let you," she said.

"True fact," he responded.

"So ... you want me to suck it on my way out?"

"I think no," he said, saying it slowly. "Ain't no filly ever done that to me before. It was mighty nice. I'll never fergit it as long as I live. But iffen you ever do it again, I want it to be 'cause you want to ... not to service me like I'm some kind of horse."

She stiffened and let go of his cock. "I didn't mean it like that, you son of a bitch!" she snapped.

"Calm down," he said, holding her tight enough that she couldn't get to his face with her hands. "I know that. I'm just sayin' I want it to mean more than just makin' me feel good before you take off."

She relaxed. This man was so different from other men she'd known. She wasn't sure how to act around him. He for sure wasn't like any cowboy she'd ever known.

"I did like it," she said. "I didn't think I would do it, and then when I did I didn't think I'd like it. But I did. I liked everything, Dusty. That's why I need time to think about all this."

"Don't blame you," he said. "I feel right sure that iffen you stayed here all night long, by the time the sun came up I'd have proposed marriage."

"Don't you make fun of me," she warned.

"I ain't," was all he said in reply.

"I'm leavin' now."

"Hate to see you go. You ever comin' back?"

He let her go and she stood up. His eyes ranged over her body, hungry and sharp. No man had ever had the courage to look at her like that. She loved it, and it scared her half to death. Something, coming from a place she'd never known existed before, made her cup her breasts.

"You just want to see these again."

"I want to see all of you again," he countered.

She pulled on her pants, and then pulled her buckskin shirt over her head. Her gunbelt was still hanging up on a peg on the wall, where she'd put it, just being polite, before eating with him. She buckled it on, and then looked back at him, lying on his side like he had before, still naked. His penis was soft now.

"Well, at least it don't stay hard all the time," she said, smiling.

"Next time you see it I bet it's like stone," he said, not smiling.

"We'll see," she said. She went to him and bent down to brush his lips with hers. "I like you, Dusty. And that's a first."

"I'm glad," he said. "I'll be here for a week, at least."

"I know," she said.

Then she left, to get on her horse and ride slowly through the dark of early morning. It gave her time to think. By the time she rode up to her little sod hut, she had already adapted to much of her changing world. Life on the frontier required that you be flexible, and able to adapt to changing circumstances. The fact that Boots now embraced something she would have shunned, only twenty-four hours earlier, didn't bother her at all.

She couldn't wait to talk to Millie about it.

Both women were eager to talk to each other that day, but both wanted time in which to do that. So neither broached any of what had happened to her the night before until they were on the way to Millie's house for Boots' tutoring session. It was Boots who started the conversation, and it was based on something Dusty had said.

"Hey, did you ever read the Good Book through?" she asked Millie.

"If I did, I don't remember it," said Millie.

"Oh," said Boots. She sounded disappointed.

"Why?"

"It's just something Dusty said last night."

"Last night?" Millie's voice rose. "You saw him last night?"

"Yeah," said Boots, who suddenly felt funny, like somebody had asked her a simple question, and she couldn't answer it. "I was riding around, and happened upon a line shack, and he was in it."

Millie stopped and reached for her friend's elbow. She spun Boots, who looked at her wide-eyed.

"Are you sure that's how it happened?" asked Millie, her eyes narrowed.

Boots felt silly. She wanted to talk to Millie about it all, yet she had been beating around the bushes. As if something unlocked inside her, she suddenly felt safe in telling Millie everything. It all rushed out at once.

"Okay," she said, looking around, as if she were afraid someone else might hear her. They were dozens of yards away from any other buildings, though, and no one was in sight. "Dougie Hill told me he'd be there, an' I went and saw him, an' we kissed some, an' then we got nekkid, an' I sucked him, an' then he sucked me, an' I had to leave, 'cause I was gonna let him do it to me, 'cause he was still hard, but I was scared, except everthin' felt so good, an' I loved it, an' he said he might be in love with me, an' was talkin' about getting hitched and everything!" She dragged in breath, having used ever bit in her lungs to speak.

Millie stared at her, her mouth open. Then she looked around, to make sure nobody else had come into earshot.

"Come on!" she said. "You have to tell me every bit of it!"

Inside the house, sitting on the single stool and a nail keg near the stove, Millie interrogated Boots about everything that had happened. Suddenly, Boots wanted to hold back again.

"I cain't tell you about everthin'" she said. "You're a lady, and I'm pretty sure some of it was awful naughty."

"You don't understand!" wailed Millie. "Bob and I ... last night ... I made him touch me. He massaged my bump and it was wonderful. If I can't have that and be a lady, then I don't want to be a lady. But I want to hear about yours and then I'll tell you about mine!"

So Boots started at the beginning, and laid it all out. Millie's responses were understandable.

"You took your clothes off right in front of him?!" Somenow, in Millie's mind, that she had done exactly the same thing was different because Bob was a doctor.

"Nekkid as the day I was born. An' the way he looked at me ... it made me wet down there."

Later, Millie asked, horrified: "You put your mouth where?!"

"Jasper used to make me suck his," said Boots, whose emotional release the night before had removed the pain from that memory. She would forever know she had hated it, but it didn't hurt her any more. "An' I wasn't gonna do it at first. I mean doin' him with my hand was my aim, so's it would go soft an' he couldn't force it on me, but then I got this urge, and I'm sure glad I did cause he felt all good in my mouth and he tasted as good as candy."

That took at least half an hour for all of Millie's questions to be answered, as Boots tried to describe what a penis looked like, and how she had stroked it, and how she had sucked it and then how he had stroked it, and what it looked like when it shot off.

Millie almost fainted when Boots talked about how Dusty had sucked on her bump, and how, for some strange reason that made Boots want to let him have sex with her. But that had scared her, and she had left.

Millie said she understood, because she had wanted Bob to stay, the night before. She didn't know why, except that she wanted him to keep touching her.

And that was the transition into her telling Boots what she had experienced. Boots was curious about Bob sucking on Millie's nipples.

"I know! I thought he'd gone crazy," said Millie. "But it felt so wonderful, pretty soon I wished he'd never stop sucking them. I sure know why women like to suckle a baby now."

"I might have to have Dusty try that on me," said Boots, her eyes unfocused.

"Are you going back?" squealed Millie, clapping her hands.

"Do you think I should?" asked Boots, who had never done "girly things" like squealing and clapping and jumping up and down.

"Of course you should!" said Millie. "Wait! You said something about marriage! What was that about?"

"He just said that he would tell me he loved me, except he was afraid I'd hurt him if he did, so he wasn't goin' to."

"But he did tell you!" insisted Millie.

"I reckon he did at that," said Boots.

"How do you feel about that?" asked Millie.

"I don't know. Nervous maybe? Skeered, a little bit? But it makes me want to rub my bump too. It makes me want to let him rub it!"

"Ohhh Boots," sighed Millie. "What if you're in love?"

"I cain't be in love," said Boots. "That just wouldn't work out at all."

"Why not?" said Millie, outraged.

"How can a girl like me get involved with a man, and mebbe get hitched and all that? I ain't one to stay home an' weed the garden while the man goes off and does things I'm prob'ly better at."

"Who says it has to be like that?" asked Millie. "Who says you have to have a garden?"

"Look around," said Boots. "Every woman you see who's married has a passel of kids hangin' onto her skirts, and a garden out back. That ain't the life fer me. I'm a tracker, an' a scout."

"Well I don't think you should turn up your nose at love because of what you see other people do," said Millie. "I think you should talk to Dusty about it."

"I think he's got more on his mind than just talkin'," said Boots, with one eyebrow raised.

"I would hope so!" squealed Millie.

"That's why I asked you about the Good Book. He said it was in there somewhere that what he wants to do with me is a good thing."

"Well then, we'll look," said Millie firmly.

"When?" asked Boots.

"I don't have a Bible here," said Millie.

"There's one at the school."

"Well run get it and we'll just have us a look," said Millie.

George Watkins looked in through the batwing doors of the Silver Dollar and spied Sheriff Miller playing cards with the mayor and two cattle ranchers. He pushed through the doors and approached the table.

"Sheriff?"

Miller looked up from his cards at the stable owner. "What's goin' on, George?"

"Might be trouble about," said George.

"Why so?"

"I just seen Boots tearing out of the schoolmarm's house. She lit out like the devil hisself was after her. She didn't even get on her horse."

"Where'd she run to?"

"I dunno. It's gettin dark. Somewhere off to the north, anyway."

The sheriff threw his cards into the middle of the table.

"Sorry, boys, but duty calls. I'll either be right back, or be puttin' together a posse, maybe, so stick around."

The door banged open and Sheriff Miller strode in, his pistol in his hand. Right behind him were George Watkins, Mayor Robinson and Lawrence Thistledown, who ran the Bar Under W ranch. The men were confronted by the sight of two women, one wearing a dress, and the other in buckskin, peering at an open book on the wooden table in the middle of the room. A lamp was on the table not far from the book. Both women were staring at the men.

"May I ... help you ... Sheriff?" asked Millie.

"I heard there might be trouble here," said Miller. "We came to find out."

"Well thank you for your concern," said Millie. "We're just reading the Bible. You gentlemen are welcome to stay. I can read out loud if you like."

Ten minutes later the card game was going on again.

A protesting George Watkins would forever after bear the nickname of "Good Old George," based on how they got to hear the creation story, and about how everything God created was good.

George was not impressed.

After the men left, Millie's finger went to the line in Genesis that had the number 28 in front of it. She read.

"And God blessed them. And God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it -"

"What does that mean ... subdue it?" interrupted Boots.

"I think it means mankind is supposed to run things," said Millie. "You know ... take care of things."

"Oh."

"But just before that," said Millie, "where it says be fruitful and multiply ... that might be what Dusty was talking about."

"How can eatin' fruit have anything to do with sex?" asked Boots, doubtfully.

"It means to have lots of children. You have to have sex to have children."

"That's what Jasper wanted, but I wouldn't let him."

There was another hour long argument about whether or not a woman could just "decide" whether or not to have a baby. In the end, Millie learned that the first time Boots had endured a menstrual bleed, she'd thought Jasper had injured her internally. It was actually Jasper who had educated her on what that meant. And it was shortly after that when he started crowing about how he was going to get her with child. She bled four more times before she killed her tormentor. Since, as best as they could tell, Boots had been about thirteen at that time, Millie was pretty sure that meant the girl was a late bloomer, but she didn't have much empirical data to go on.

Finally Boots said, "Well, I don't know about having no babies, but bein' with Dusty like that makes me want to see if he can make the rest of it as nice as he made that little bit. Nothin' Jasper did to me felt good, but everthin' Dusty did made me want it to go on and on. It would be nice iffen the rest of it could feel good too."

"I don't know about that," sighed Millie. "The only things I've done, at least that I can remember, I did with Bob last night."

"So ... you gonna let him do it again?" asked Boots.

"I want to," said Millie.

"Then you should. We both should!" said Boots.

It was as close to squealing as she was ever likely to come.

And so it was that, on the frontier of the plains, in 19th century America, two men became hunted ... not by the law ... but rather by a force more implacable by far than mere men with badges.

They became the prey of horny women.

Boots, ever one to leap without looking, left Millie's, got on her horse, and rode back to the line shack.

Millie waited for Bob and, when she decided he was late, went looking for him. He was puttering around in his surgery, unconsciously coming up with reasons not to go get her. He was in trouble, and he knew it. He looked up as the door opened and she walked in.

"Good evening," she said, looking completely normal. "You were late, so I thought I'd come over and see if you needed help, or something."

"I guess I just lost track of the time," he said.

"I don't see any patients," she said calmly. "Are you ready to go?"

"I guess I am," he said.

She waited for him at the door and then took his arm, making sure her breast was in constant contact with that arm, as he escorted her to supper.

He was uncharacteristically quiet while they ate. She could tell he was unhappy, and guessed why.

"You know," she said, finally. "I believe it's up to the woman to feel put upon."