The Gunsmith 386 (11 page)

Clint got to the hotel lobby first. Rather than standing in the center the way Cain did, he took a seat against the wall to wait.

Cain came walking in several minutes later and joined Clint, who now understood why the big man had been standing earlier. The furniture in the lobby was too flimsy to hold his bulk.

“I think I found Eclipse,” Clint said.

“I think I found Dunn and Sands,” Cain said.

Clint looked around the lobby. Once again they were the center of attention.

“Let's get rooms so we can talk without being watched,” Clint suggested.

“All right.”

Clint went to the desk to register for the two of them. He used phony names and collected two keys from the clerk. They then went up to one of the rooms, where they could sit and discuss what they had each discovered.

“You first,” Clint said.

“Both Dunn and Sands went to the whorehouse earlier today,” Cain said. “One of the girls—her name is Molly—remembered. She went upstairs with Sands. She doesn't remember who went upstairs with the other man, but she's trying to find out.”

“Does she know where they were staying?” Clint asked.

“She got the impression they were staying with someone, and not in any of the hotels.”

“That explains why they're not registered anywhere.”

“What about your horse?”

“I found an old-timer in the livery who says he saw Eclipse earlier today. At least, he thinks it was earlier today.”

“He doesn't know?”

“His memory is a little fuzzy,” Clint said.

“Where did he see him?”

“That's also something he's trying to remember.”

“What can we do to help his memory?”

“I'm thinking money, whiskey, or both,” Clint said. “I wanted to come back here and talk to you. I told him I'd be back.”

“That is what I told the ladies.”

“Was it tough on you?” Clint asked.

“You don't know,” Cain said. “I like whores.”

“Would you rather I go back?”

“No, that's all right,” the half-breed said. “I do not mind going back.”

“Maybe, when this is all done, you can go back for a while,” Clint said.

“I promised them I would,” Cain said. “And I always keep my promises.”

“I'm sure that'll make them very happy,” Clint said. “Let's go see if we can get some definite answers.”

 • • • 

“Do you think he'd really come walkin' in here?” Derrick Sands asked.

“Why not?” Dunn asked. “Comin' in off the trail, he'll want a drink.”

“Yeah,” Sands said, scowling, “but won't he figure on us bein' here?”

“Sure, and he'll figure he can handle us,” Dunn said. “After all, he's the Gunsmith.”

“Well, yeah,” Sands said worriedly, “I been thinkin' about that, too.”

“What?”

“We've left five men and six men to kill him now,” Sands said, “and we tried ourselves. Ain't nothin' worked. What makes you think the two of us can do it?”

“We've got somethin' they didn't have.”

“His horse?”

“That's right,” Dunn said. “He ain't gonna do a thing while we got that animal.”

“He ain't gonna get killed for it!” Sands argued.

“I guess we'll just have to wait and see how right you are, Derrick,” Dunn said.

Sands frowned, still not convinced.

“Relax,” Dunn said, “and go to the bar and get us another bottle of whiskey.”

When Clint returned to the livery stable, he had managed to wrangle a bottle of whiskey out of the desk clerk at the hotel. The old man's rheumy eyes brightened when he saw the bottle.

“That might jog my memory,” he admitted. “Yep, sure might.” He licked his lips.

Clint unstoppered the bottle, handed it over, let the old man take a healthy swig, and then took it away from him.

The old man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“All right,” Clint said, “think about it. Where'd you see that horse?”

“Big feller, right?”

“That's right.”

“White over here,” he said, touching his own nose.

“Yes.” There was a white crescent on his nose, which was why Clint had called him Eclipse.

“Hmm, yeah,” the old man said, frowning, “I seen him . . . somewhere.”

He looked at the whiskey bottle and Clint let him have another drink.

“Okay,” Clint said, “how about this? Let's go over what you did this morning, and maybe it'll come back to you.”

“Kin we take the bottle with us?”

“Sure,” Clint said, “we'll take the bottle with us. What's the first thing you did this morning . . .”

 • • • 

“I ain't gonna tell you,” Molly said to Cain.

“What?”

She leaned into him and said, “I ain't gonna tell ya.”

“Why not?”

“I want somethin'.”

“What?”

“Come upstairs with me,” she said. “I wanna see you.”

“Huh?”

“I wanna see you with no pants on.”

“Now look—”

“You ain't so scary, you know,” she said, leaning into him as they sat on the sofa together. She wasn't his type, but he couldn't take his eyes off her full breasts as she pressed them together. They swelled and threatened to come out. “Come upstairs with me, and I'll tell you what I know.”

“Promise?” he asked.

“I promise,” she said.

“Well . . . okay.” He thought this might be better then spending time arguing with her, or threatening.

They got dirty looks from the other girls as she took his hand and led him up the stairs.

 • • • 

The old man lived in a shack at the edge of town. He walked Clint there.

“There ya go,” he said, waving. “I woke up and walked into town.”

“Okay, let's do it,” Clint said. “Make sure you take the same route.”

“I walk the same way every day,” the old man insisted.

“Good,” Clint said, “then you'll remember.”

The old man eyed the bottle.

“I'd remember better if I could wet my whistle a bit.”

“I'm gonna give you one more sip,” Clint told him. “After that you can have the rest of the bottle, but only if you tell me where you saw my horse.”

“Your horse?” the old man asked.

“That's right.”

“You mean them fellers stole yore horse?”

“That's right.”

“Sonsofbitches!” the old man swore.

Clint handed him the bottle and watched while he took a swig, then grabbed it.

“Let's get 'em!” the old man said.

Clint hoped the old coot could hold his liquor and wasn't already drunk.

“Which way?” he asked.

“This-a-way . . .”

 • • • 

Cain let the girl drag him down the hall to a door, waited while she opened it. Then she got behind him and pushed him in, slamming the door behind them.

“Those other girls hate me now,” she said.

He thought about the blonde and the redhead, but when Molly turned to face him and dropped her nightgown to the floor, he forgot about them. She was medium height, with full breasts, wide hips, and a generous butt. Between her legs was a forest of brown hair. He always liked when a girl had a big bush. He could already smell that she was ready, and he was about to burst from his pants.

“You like?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

He stared at her hardening brown nipples and said, “Yeah, I like.”

“Okay, then,” she said, “your turn.”

“Okay,” he said, “I really got to go, Molly, so you just want me to take off my pants so you can look, right?”

“Right.”

“And then you'll tell me what I want to know, right?”

“Right. Come on, don't keep me waiting, honey,” she said anxiously.

Cain set his rifle aside, then his knife, then undid his trousers and pulled them down. He didn't wear any underwear. His penis sprang out from his crotch.

“Oh . . . my . . . God!” she breathed.

Clint followed the liveryman toward town, hoping the old coot was taking the same route, hoping against hope that seeing a big horse with a white blaze wasn't just some dream he'd had.

“I stopped here and waved to old Mrs. Cartwright,” the geezer said. “She called out, ‘Hi, Jake,' and I said—”

“That's okay, Jake,” Clint said. “I don't need to know everything you said. Where'd you go from here?”

Jake turned and stared at the whiskey bottle.

“No more,” Clint said. “Not until you show me where you saw my horse.”

“Okay,” the old man said reluctantly, “well, then I went this-a-way . . .”

 • • • 

Molly put her hands over her mouth and stared at Cain's erect penis. It was easily the biggest and prettiest one she'd ever seen.

“I ain't never seen a tallywacker like that before,” she told him.

“Okay,” he said, starting to reach for his pants, but she leaped forward and block his hands.

“I wanna touch it,” she said.

“But you said—”

“I know, but geez, look at it,” she said. “You can't expect me not to touch it.”

He swore to himself that he wouldn't tell Clint that this happened.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides.

“Okay,” she said, “okay.”

She got down on her knees.

 • • • 

Jake took Clint through a neighborhood of large homes that made him think it was a mistake. What reason would the old man have to walk by any of these homes?

“Jake,” Clint said, “are you sure—”

“I always stop at Mr. Everett's house to see if he needs any work done,” the old man said.

“Oh, I see. And did he?”

“No,” Jake said, “then I usually stop at Mr. Clement's house for the same reason.”

“And did he need work done?”

“No,” Jake said, “and he got mad at me, told me to get away from the house. He never did that before.”

“Why did he do that?”

“I don't know,” Jake said, “but I was curious. So I went around to the back of the house . . .”

“Jake?”

The old man turned, pointed at the bottle of whiskey, and exclaimed, “That's mine!”

“Why?”

“Because that's where I saw your horse,” the old man said. “Behind Mr. Clement's house!”

 • • • 

Molly got to her knees in front of Cain and took his huge penis in both of her hands. She held it as if it were a club.

“Oh my God,” she said again. She didn't know what was more incredible, its length or its girth.

“Molly—”

“Shh,” she said. She touched the spongy head with her fingertips, then ran them underneath. He jumped and his cock jerked.

“Oh my . . .” she said.

“Molly . . .”

“Shh,” she said again. She leaned forward and licked the head of his cock.

“I don't know if I can get this in my mouth, but . . .” She leaned forward again and this time wrapped her lips around him, and took him in.

“Molly . . .” he said for a third time, but this time he had no intention of trying to stop her. Instead, he reached down and put his hands on her head, which began to bob up and down on him.

The wetter she got his cock, the more of it she was able to get into her mouth. She reached down and cradled his heavy ball sack in one hand. She continued to suck him, making sounds that were a cross between gulping and gagging.

She pulled her head back and released him, gasped as she tried to catch her breath.

“My God.”

He reached down to take her breasts in his hands. With his thumbs, he strummed her nipples.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked. “And let you leave?”

“Don't be stupid,” he said. He reached down, put his hands in her armpits. Holding her that way, he lifted her up and carried her to the bed.

“Come on, come on,” she urged him. “I want that monster inside me.”

He pulled off his shirt, staggered around until he got his boots off, and kicked his trousers away from his ankles.

“Jesus,” she said, “look at the size of you! You're big all over, ain't you?”

“I am,” he said, “but only one place counts right now.”

He got on the bed with her, spread her legs, and reached into her bush. His fingers found her wet and ready.

“Yeah, see, I'm ready,” she said. “Come on. But go slow at first. You're liable to tear me up. I've never had one this big before.”

He ran his hands over her smooth flesh, leaned over to first bite and suck her nipples before he turned his attention back to her crotch.

He pressed the bulbous head of his penis to her pussy lips, rubbed it up and down until he was wet, then started to slide it in.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh . . .” she said.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She reached up to put her hands on his arms.

“I'm fine,” she said. “Keep going.”

He did, sliding himself into her farther. She brought her legs up, wrapped them around his waist. As he pushed in as far as he could, she closed her eyes and bit her lip. However, she didn't try to stop him, so he started moving in and out of her.

“Oh, wow,” she gasped, “oh, geez.” She began to move with him, her hips matching his tempo. “Ooh, yeah, that's good, that's soooo good . . .”

He put his hands on the bed on either side of her and leaned over her, keeping his weight off her.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “yes . . .”

He started to grunt as he fucked her. She tightened her legs around him, her thighs surprisingly strong.

“Come on,” she said, “you can go harder . . . go faster . . . go ahead, tear me up.”

He began to move faster, his giant cock glistening with her juices as he slid in and out of her. Then the door opened and suddenly they were joined on the bed by two more naked girls.

“You promised . . .” the redhead said into his ear, sliding her hand along the crack of his butt. She rubbed her bare tits and hard nipples over his skin.

The blonde kissed his neck and slid her hand beneath him to stroke his balls. He almost exploded at her touch.

He closed his eyes and thought about the great spirit.