Western Tale: Chapter 8

“Pardon me?”

“You ought to tell me what happened with Miss Patsy O’Sullivan and then we’ll see if I blush or not.”

The sheriff blustered on for a minute or two, and drank a good deal more whiskey, but I wouldn’t let go.  I was intrigued to know better the way other women behaved with men, to perhaps better understand the change that had come over me the past week.

Eventually, the sheriff began after taking a big swallow of whiskey.  “Miss Patsy was jailed after the general store keeper claimed she’d taken something from his store.  Of course Patsy denied it, and there weren’t no one saw her do it, but I was pretty sure she had.  Anyways, ruther than waiting for the next occasion the judge was in town, I agreed I’d keep Patsy out of trouble for thirty days and we’d call an end to it.  The store keeper didn’t much like it, but he saw the sense in my suggestion.

“To keep the peace with the storekeeper I couldn’t exactly let Patsy out before the thirty days were up, though she did try a few times to entice me to change my mind.  One time, when I came through to check on her, she showed me an awful lot of her leg, clear up to the stocking tops.  My,” he said, “she does have pretty legs.”

“Well, it had been hotter ‘n hell--excuse me--hotter than hot and the jailhouse had gotten pretty funky.  But then the weather broken and the next day it was raining like today.  I had got caught out in the rain and came running back into the office to get dried off.  I stuck my head around the door to check on Patsy, and there she was, as nekkid as the day she were born, taking a shower under the rain as it poured through the roof and into the jail cell.

“I exclaimed as you might imagine anyone would.  Patsy turns around and laughs when she sees me.  ‘Cain't a girl take a shower without you a gawpin’?”

I took a sip of whiskey as I thought about what happened.  I could only imagine how it made the sheriff feel when he saw Patsy like that.

“What did you do?”

“I'm not rightly sure I should say, Miss Mary.”

“Why ever not?”

“I… I… I wouldn't want you to think any less of me.”

I smiled and sipped my whiskey.  “That's very chivalrous of you sheriff, but not to worry.  I believe I understand the… urges that drive the behavior of men.  I won't think any less of you.”

The sheriff took a long draw on his glass and swallowed down his whiskey.  “I carried on watching her and drew closer to the cell.  My she’s a pretty thing is Patsy.  Her legs, her… Her body.  The sight of her had an… impact on my physique, you might say.”

“I believe I take your meanin’”

“Patsy looked over at me and saw what she'd done to me; I was standing awkwardly in my pants.  Made her smile.  She stepped out from under the shower and drew towards me.  She reached out between the bars and touched me.”

“Where?”

“She touched me just below my belt.  And I reached out to touch her at her heart.”

I nodded.

“She stepped forward so that her naked form was against the bars, with parts of her sticking out between them.”

I took another sip.  The whiskey was making me distinctly light headed.

“We kissed. ‘It's been a mighty long time since I last kissed a man,’ she said.”

The sheriff paused.  For a moment, all I could hear was that same water pouring through the hole in the roof.  It was so evocative--as if Patsy was still standing naked against the bars in the cell next door.

As I took another sip of my whiskey, the room started spinning and I felt my legs buckle beneath me.  The next thing I remember was the sheriff’s face looking down at me, a concerned look in his eyes; I realised I was lying on a bed in one of the jail cells.

“Miss Mary,” he said, “You fainted clean away.  How are you feeling now?”

I smiled and looked up at him.  It still felt like the room was slowly spinning around me, but that might have been the whiskey.

I took a moment to answer but said, “I… I think I am all right.  I’m not in the habit of fainting, really I’m not.”

“I carried you through to the cot here.  Thought you’d been more comfortable, and I didn’t know how long it might be before I could rouse you.”

“Thank you, sheriff--that was really very thoughtful.”  I smiled again.

“You really don’t have to call me sheriff,” he said.  “My name’s Paul, remember?”

I bit my lip and nodded. Then before I could take another breath, he leaned forward and kissed me.  I was surprised, and gasped a little; I suppose he must have thought I was opening my mouth to accept his kiss because he then snaked his tongue into my mouth, his lips pressed hard against mine.

“Oh Mary,” he whispered as he knelt next to the cot.  “I… I think you must be the prettiest gal I’ve ever laid eyes on.  I just couldn’t help myself.  Please forgive me.”

As if in response, I reached up my hand to the back of his head and pulled him down towards me.  Kissing him as our lips met.  I felt his tongue plunge back into my mouth; I could taste the whiskey.  The whiskey and the story about Patsy had had an impact on my state of mind.  Now, that was made even more powerful by Paul’s passionate kissing.  I could feel a tingling across my body.  That same tingling I had felt with Joe and with the pastor.

The sheriff pulled away.  Looking down at me with a funny look on his face.  Did he--could he know what I wanted?  He might need a more clear and explicit signal from me.  I reached out my hand and put it on his thigh, slowly sliding my hand up his leg until it brushed against the now rather obvious bulge in his pants.  The look in his eyes then was unforgettable.  It was as if Christmas had come early that year.

My fingers fumbled with the buttons on his pants, but he knew what I was after.  He reached down and undid the buttons in a flash.  My fingers slipped inside his pants and wrapped around his manhood.  With a little tug, it was free of its confines.  My goodness; I realised why the bulge had appeared so big.  The sheriff’s endowment was much larger than either Joe, or the pastor’s.  I looked down the bed to see what was perhaps just shy of a foot long.  My eyes widened, and you might suppose they would.

I tugged at him and, still kneeling, he moved along the bed.  Then I could kiss the end of his pride.  As I did so, I looked up at him, and Paul was even more surprised than before.  I can’t imagine he thought that a young school teacher would ever do something so improper. Or that he ever expected to be as lucky as this.  I opened my mouth as wide as I could and accepted his offering, though only four or five inches would fit inside my mouth.  My lips were tight around him and I could feel him throbbing inside me; throbbing and twitching.    

Paul’s hands were exploring my body, tracing the contours of my bust, following the shape of my legs--pushing my skirts up as he went.  I felt him thrust himself into my mouth and I almost choked, he was so big.  His rough hand grasped my thigh and I knew we would have congress.  Paul almost completely withdrew from my mouth before thrusting himself almost down my throat.  I was at the point of choking when he withdrew, completely this time.

He found my drawers and pulled them down to my knees, then pay on top of me, still fully dressed from the waist up.  I felt his magnificence between my legs, rubbing and teasing at my glory, before a new sensation started.  I felt as if his indulgence was tearing me asunder.  It was the most astonishingly delightful experience I had ever had; inch by inch he entered me, and with each successive inch, I drew further from the physical world and into an existence of pleasure--only pleasure.  Eventually, at the point where I was sure I’d split in two, he had finally entered me completely, and began to withdraw, only to enter me again.  Over and over, he entered and withdrew, my pleasure increasing with each repetition.  The only sound was of his breathing, the rain on the roof and the water pouring onto the floor from the hole in the roof.

My pleasure increased and increased until the room was spinning once more and I thought I was on the point of fainting for the second time that day.  Then, suddenly that world of pleasure exploded around me and every muscle in my body tensed.  It was like sunrise and sunset at the same time.  Like church bells and lightning.  Impossible to describe.  I collapsed into a heap of tingling sensation as Paul continued to thrust until his own completion a few moments later.  Then I felt the weight of his body upon me.  I was spent--as spent as a newly broken mustang, but with an as yet unsurpassed feeling of elation.

We lay there in silence for a few minutes then Paul rolled off me and lay on his side next to me on the narrow cot.  We smiled at one another, and he kissed me lightly on the lips.  “I ain’t never met anyone like you,” he whispered.

“Not even Patsy O’Sullivan?”  

“Ha!” he replied, “You’re beyond compare.  Beyond my wildest dreams and aspirations.”  He beamed at me.

We lay there in silence a minute more.  Then he said, “You know how you said you were plannin’ to become a school teacher?,”

I nodded.

“Well, I wonder if I might be able to persuade you to the contrary.,” he replied.

“How so?”

He paused, then almost whispered, “Miss Mary, would you be so good as to consent to be my wife?”